


A Safe Space

by MusicLover19



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Desperation Play, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Lingerie, M/M, Praise Kink, Slight age regression in a non kink way, Spanking, There will be so many kinks in this, but I keep hurting him, i need to give Stiles all the love, maybe slight age play but unsure at the moment, slight gun kink, slow build with Chris
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 91,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicLover19/pseuds/MusicLover19
Summary: Stiles had a falling out with the pack and Peter was there. Instead of going home, they find themselves at Peter's place, who then offers it as a safe space if Stiles ever wanted to explore the side of himself that he hadn't before thought he would let see the light of day.





	1. Talk To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest, I was lost in a day dream when I thought of this and the idea wouldn't leave. So I thought I'd write it and now it seems like a more in depth story that the porn I originally planned.
> 
> I have a slight idea about adding Chris because that would be great, both him and Peter would do their best to care for Stiles and keep him safe. I am unsure about that at the moment though, so let me know what you would think of it?

“Stop acting like a child!” Derek snapped.

“I am not!” Stiles yelled back, his cheeks reddening slightly. “What happens next time? They might just kill the whole town instead of three people! It was stupid to let them go.”

“That isn’t your decision,” Scott snapped, levelling his friend with a hard look.

“So just because I would rather them not be an issue, that makes me too immature to handle it?” Stiles asked.

“Murdering a person is not a way –”

“It stops them being a threat!” Stiles snapped at his friend. It had been something that he had stopped himself saying time and time again. He had naively thought that Scott would be able to make the right choice if it came to it. His anger was only fuelled more at Scott’s pityingly worried look.

“Stiles…” he said gently. “We don’t kill people. That isn’t us.”

“No, you just wait for some else to do your dirty work for you,” Stiles huffed.

“Clearly Stiles isn’t fully himself,” Theo drawled.

Stiles froze, the worried look his friend gave him making more sense.

“Fuck you,” he hissed. “When all of this gets worse, just know I told you so.”

With that, Stiles turned and fled Scott’s house. He was shaking with how angry he was. Pulling out the keys to his jeep, he fumbled for several seconds before he dropped them, cursing to himself he was just about to pick them up when another person beat him to it.

“You were right,” Peter said, standing back up, he unlocked the doors to the jeep and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Get out,” Stiles growled.

“I’m driving you home,” Peter said sternly. “You are in no condition to drive.”

“You have no right –”

“Get. In. The. Car. Stiles.” He ground out, starting the jeep.

Stiles bit his tongue to stop himself snapping even further at the man before doing as he had said. Between letting the pack listen to him argue further and letting Peter kill him, he knew which he would rather.

Neither spoke as they pulled away from Scott’s house. It wasn’t until they were out of the werewolves hearing that Peter broke the silence.

“The witch will be back,” was all he said.

Stiles gave a jerky nod.

“Will you help them?” Peter asked curiously.

“If I do they’ll just think I’m possessed,” Stiles said darkly.

“I was thinking more pushover but I guess possessed would work,” Peter commented.

“They don’t want threats dead,” Stiles shrugged. “It’s an obvious way to deal with them and it stops –”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Peter said amused. “I know the importance of stopping a threat.”

Stiles let himself relax into the passenger seat.

“You’re not taking me home,” Stiles pointed out, the drive from Scott’s wouldn’t have taken this long.

“I am, granted it’s my home and not yours,” Peter mused. “Thought you would want time away from them. No one knows where I live.”

“Cool,” Stiles said, forcing the cheerfulness into his voice. “I get to see inside the apartment you rented.”

“Why am I not surprised you know,” Peter thought out loud.

“Had to make sure you weren’t up to no good,” Stiles shrugged. “When you were being all secretive again I did some digging. I know where it is but you never gave me reason to actually go.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t just show up with how curious you were,” Peter said honestly.

A startled laugh escaped Stiles.

“I didn’t want to get killed,” he admitted.

“Now Stiles,” Peter purred. “It would be too much of a shame if I killed you.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was surreal being in Peter’s home. It was… normal. There were no visible blood stains. Not hit list with half of the people crossed off. Just a small stash of dirty dishes and the odd bits of clutter surrounding the rooms.

Peter had watched Stiles in amusement as the boy looked around in clear shock, braced for the truth of an evil plot to appear before him.

Instead, Stiles just found himself led to a couch and sat in front of a television whilst Peter disappeared into the small kitchen that he had seen into.

Stiles fiddled with his phone, unsure of just what Peter expected from him before the vibration made him jump. It was a message from Scott; ‘ ** _Dude, I know you’re angry but what did Peter…_** ’ Stiles didn’t open the message to view the full thing, he just huffed, his anger rising again as he forcefully turned off his phone and put it on the coffee table.

“Problem?” Peter asked when he came back into the room and sat next to Stiles. He passed the younger man a cup before setting his own on the table.

Stiles took a drink, not even caring at this point if Peter had poisoned it.

“That bad?” Peter mused as he watched Stiles drink. Deciding to continue with his plan on letting the boy calm, he turned the television on, not caring too much for what channel it landed on.

The two sat in silence, Stiles slowly letting go of his anger at Scott as he drunk the coffee Peter had made and stared at the TV.

“Oh my god,” Stiles had gasped after a while. “No one should say that to their partner,” he said, his cheeks bright red.

“Hmm,” Peter hummed. He could smell the embarrassment coming off Stiles clearly. “It isn’t a bad thing,” he said.

“I never – it’s just – I – of course,” Stiles finally settled on, glancing over to Peter. “I don’t even know why I’m shocked. You are ‘ _Daddy_ ’ material,” he scoffed.

Peter raised an eyebrow at the emphasis Stiles put into that single word as well as the increase in embarrassment.

“And you are a brat,” Peter said, enjoying the deeper reddening of Stiles’ cheeks. “Didn’t take you as one to kink shame though.”

“I –” Stiles stopped, staring at Peter. “You – oh my _god_!” he gasped. “I need – go. I should go,” he flailed, standing up quickly.

Before Stiles was able to make it far, Peter was next to him, a hand on the back of his neck.

“Now, now Stiles,” he cooed. “Tell Daddy what’s wrong,” he finished, his voice low. Stiles just stared, open mouthed at him. “Oh,” Peter breathed, unable to stop the smirk that was spreading. The embarrassment that Stiles was radiating had doubled but under that scent was arousal.

“Peter,” the boy whimpered.

Peter guided Stiles back to the couch silently. Sensing just how vulnerable Stiles felt.

“Talk to me,” Peter prompted as Stiles fell back onto the seat. He avoided Peter’s eyes and stared stubbornly at the floor.

“I take it you haven’t explored this –” Peter began, only for Stiles to cut him off.

“Of course I have,” he said angrily.

“Attitude,” Peter said firmly, unable to help himself when Stiles glared.

“I don’t have daddy issues,” Stiles grumbled.

“I never suggested you did,” Peter pointed out. “You’re smart enough to know that kinks don’t always have a reason.”

“Other people –” Stiles tried.

“You base yourself on what other people think?” Peter questioned.

“I – no. Of course I don’t,” Stiles frowned.

“Then why does what other people think matter?” Peter asked gently. “Are you planning on announcing to the world what you like?”

Stiles glanced up, feeling more lost than angry at the moment. “Why do you care?”

“You shouldn’t hide who you are,” Peter shrugged.

“I –” Stiles shook his head. He hated how he felt. “I just don’t _want_ …” he trailed off, not knowing exactly what it was that he didn’t want.

“What would help?” Peter asked softly, finally sitting back down next to Stiles now he felt sure the boy wouldn’t run again.

Stiles made a sad noise, not looking up from the floor.

“Would it help if I told you what helps me?” Peter prompted gently, remembering how anxious a few of his past partners had been at this stage.

Stiles bit his lip before nodding slightly.

“Ok,” Peter said. “I like being called Daddy, which I think you guessed. I like taking care of the people I like,” he said, leaving it at the simplest way of explaining. “Sometimes the people I like don’t remember to do things like eat or sleep so I make sure to remind them. If the situation calls for it there are agreed ways for them to be reprimanded for anything they do which they shouldn’t. It isn’t just a power imbalance,” Peter pointed out, unsure of just how much Stiles had looked into his interests. “It isn’t even a purely sexual thing for me,” Peter added. “I like the trust of the whole thing.”

“It… it isn’t sexual?” Stiles asked softly.

“For some people it is. For me, it goes beyond sex,” Peter explained.

“I – I don’t know what – it’s not – I just don’t know,” Stiles frowned.

“How are you feeling?” Peter suddenly asked.

“I – what?” Stiles looked at the older man in confusion. “I feel drained.”

“I thought as much,” Peter nodded, he had noticed how slack Stiles’ posture had gone. “You should sleep.”

“It’s not even night,” Stiles argued.

“Nap then,” Peter amended.

“I’m not a child,” Stiles huffed, his cheeks reddening again.

“I never said you were,” Peter said calmly. “You need to rest, a lot has happened today.”

“I _can’t_ sleep,” Stiles stressed.

“Try,” Peter urged. “I’ll hear if you have a nightmare and I’ll wake you up.”

“Fine,” Stiles sighed, not really wanting to fight with how tired he felt.

“Good,” Peter praised. He gestured for Stiles to follow him to the small guest room that he had.


	2. A Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said porn-y but not just yet.  
> I had most of this written before, I just finished the last of it today. Now, I don't want to do another big speech since I've already done that once today. It's on another story.  
> I just want to state again that Just whatever you are feeling is ok. It is ok to be upset. It is ok to be angry. It is ok to feel betrayed. I believe that you are all capable of getting through this. It might not be easy but we are strong. Together we can do great things and right now we need to stand together and help protect each other.  
> Much like the title, I want my stories to be a safe space, I will more than happily listen if you need to vent. Heck, it's what I did earlier and the response to that was mind blowing. It might seem dire but you are not alone. We can all become one huge family that moves away and lives with some wolves if we want to.  
> Just, I love you all so much. You are all such amazing people and I really hope that you never let anyone make you believe anything different. Stay safe.

 

Stiles slept peacefully. It could have been due to the strange environment or knowing that someone was nearby and prepared to wake him if needed.

After Stiles woke, Peter offered him the chance to head into town with him to pick up some food, or to stay at Peter’s if he wanted. Not really wanting to face outside, Stiles had chosen to stay, which Peter understood.

“You are free to look around, just don’t go into my room. It’s the only one with the door closed,” was what Peter had said before he left.

Of course, the first place Stiles found when exploring was the closed door. He stood before it for several long minutes as he debated with his curiosity. In the end, he decided it wasn’t worth it to test the wolf’s trust just yet as Peter would have no trouble smelling Stiles in his room.

Moving away from the temptation, Stiles made his way back into the living room, feeling safer there with the thought of TV distracting him.

On the coffee table sat a colouring book, pencils, a glass of water with ice in and the remote for the television. Sending a quick look around the room, almost expecting Peter to be watching him, Stiles picked up the book and quickly flicked through it. It was clearly one of the books aimed towards relaxation and stress relief since it was full of complex patterns and smaller blocks to colour.

Putting the book back down, Stiles reached for the remote. He turned the TV on and flicked through the channels, he looked through a few before settling on a side that was playing SpongeBob. It wasn’t something Stiles usually let himself watch, but he had a feeling that Peter wouldn’t mind. Plus, there was no one else around to judge him.

Deciding not to sit on the couch, Stiles sat on the floor, with his back against the couch, his legs under the coffee table.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Peter paused outside of his door, focusing on the sound of Stiles. He could hear the boys heartbeat; slow and steady but clearly awake. There was the sound of the television, not overly sure of what it was playing but something Peter had not seen. As well as those sounds, Peter was silently pleased to hear the faint scratching of pencil to paper. He had a suspicion that Stiles may be one to enjoy the simplicity of colouring but it was a gamble that Peter felt to try.

Peter made an effort to be heard when he unlocked his door and let himself in, not wanting to startle Stiles at any point just yet. It was important that he felt safe around Peter. He heard the Stiles’ heartbeat pick up, as the boy moved around.

Taking his time, Peter made his way to where Stiles was. Something he did not expect was that Stiles would be happy to sit on the floor rather than the couch. It made Peter pause momentarily before his attention was drawn to a yellow sponge with a high voice on the television.

“I have pizza,” Peter said, holding the boxes up.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, his embarrassment back again.

“No need,” Peter waved him off. He moved so he was sat on the couch near where Stiles was on the floor. If he were to reach out with his left hand, Peter would be able to play with Stiles’ hair.

Resisting the urge, Peter placed one of the boxes of pizza on the coffee table, noting how the colouring book and pencils were pushed further away from Stiles than they would have been had he not touched them. He also noticed that the glass of water that Peter had put out was now empty.

“Do you want another drink?” Peter asked, he wanted for Stiles to shake his head before he opened his box and began to eat.

Not knowing what to do, Stiles moved the remote so it was next to Peter on the couch before pulling the box Peter had put on the table closer to him. He made a surprised hum when he found the peppers, onions, and sweetcorn on the pizza as well as a few meat toppings.

“Nothing you don’t like?” Peter asked lightly.

“No,” Stiles said, wincing slightly at the obvious shock in his tone. “I just – even Scott forgets…” Stiles trailed off, deciding to just enjoy the moment and eat the food Peter had gotten.

“Who is the sponge?” Peter asked, not wanting silence to take over again.

“Oh, he’s called SpongeBob –” Stiles began, only for Peter to stop him.

“SpongeBob?” Peter repeated, amused.

“Yeah, SpongeBob SquarePants,” Stiles smiled.

“That is a ridiculous name,” Peter said with a shake of his head. “Tell me more? I haven’t heard of it before,” Peter said, prompting Stiles to continue.

“You haven’t…” Stiles repeated in shock. “Well, SpongeBob lives in Bikini Bottom, that’s the name of the city,” Stiles explained. “He lives in a pineapple and works as a fry cook. He has a pet snail called Gary and Gary meows. SpongeBob’s best friend is a starfish called Patrick Star. There’s also Squidward Tentacles, who is a cashier, he lives next to SpongeBob. He hates him and Patrick but they like him and want to be his friend. There’s also Sandy Cheeks, a squirrel from Texas. She wears a suit which lets her breathe because she can’t breathe underwater. Mr. Krabs is the owner of the Krusty Krab, that’s where Squidward and SpongeBob work,” Stiles pointed out “Mr. Krabs is obsessed with money and… um, I –” Stiles blushed, realising that he was mostly info-dumping what he knew about the show to Peter.

“Go on,” Peter said, noticing Stiles’ embarrassment. “I’m honestly fascinated. Although I question the reality of Sandy Cheeks,” he teased.

“I – the show will tell you everything else,” Stiles mumbled, looking down at his pizza. In the past, he wouldn’t have needed prompting to continue, he would have just talked until he had run out of things to say. Ever since his possession, Stiles felt uncomfortable saying the briefest of things. He felt as though the world was analysing every sound, every movement, even every thought that he had.

Every sighed request for him to stop became a horrendous yell that made him flinch. Every rolled eye became a comment on how ridiculous he was. Every time Stiles felt someone watching him, it felt like he was being judged. He felt like everyone could tell what disastrous acts he had committed.

Peter watched Stiles out of the corner of his eye. He had noticed the startling change from the boy he had once met. The carefree nature had turned dark and cautious. It made Peter want to rip any threat a part and keep the boy safe until he felt able to be himself once again.

Noting that Stiles had spent the past five minutes staring at his food rather than eating or even watching the sponge, Peter gently nudged his leg against Stiles’ side, keeping it close enough to touch him.

Unconsciously, Stiles leant against the leg. His eyes flickered to Peter, who had just taken a bite of pizza, seemingly intensely focused on the show. Unable to stop the small smile at the thought of Peter going out of his way to watch SpongeBob in the future, Stiles picked up another slice of pizza and took a bite.

An hour later, SpongeBob still playing, two pizza’s disappeared and Stiles was content to lean more against Peter’s leg as the older man’s hand had found its way to his hair. Gently fingers ran through the short hair.

“I should go,” Stiles said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“If you ever need a place to just be yourself without fear of judgement, you can come here,” Peter said seriously.

“Thank you,” Stiles said, his body sagging with relief. He gave Peter an honest smile, something that he had not thought he was able to still do. It was time to go home and face his father.


	3. Let Me Hold You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'll admit, after yesterday I really wanted a nice Peter moment. So Stiles had a bit of pain here.

 

“Did you know?” Stiles shouted, not waiting for Peter to respond to his continuous knocking. “Peter! I – did you –” Stiles was shaking in anger by the time that the door opened.

“Did I know what?” Peter asked calmly. A quick glance over the male showed no obvious signs of injury. The scent of anger was overwhelming.

“You – you made sure I – how could – I hate you!” Stiles finally settled on, hissing at the older man.

“Stiles,” Peter said firmly, stopping the boy from continuing his anger induced stuttering.

Stiles took a step back, he shook his head.

“You need to calm down,” Peter said, his voice still firm. “Take a breath and think about what you want to say before you start accusing me of anything.”

“They… they – how could they?” Stiles said in a shaky voice.

Peter opened the door further and gestured for Stiles to follow him as he made his way back into his apartment.

Stiles stood outside the door for a moment, still shaking with rage. A large part of him wanted to flee. He felt sick. He felt betrayed. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to leave, nor to enter the building.

Peter waited, aware that forcing Stiles’ hand would only anger the boy further, but letting him leave in such a state would also be bad. He listened to the shallow breathes, and the fast thumps of his heart.

Several minutes passed, Peter only growing to distrust his own instincts before Stiles finally gave in.

He followed slowly, tears already making their way down his cheeks as his breathing became even shallower.

“Oh baby,” Peter found himself saying gently as he moved closer to the boy. “Come here,” he wrapped Stiles up in his arms, holding him close as he broke into full sobs.

Holding him close, Peter slowly moved the two of them to the living room, knowing that Stiles could stay like this for a while if something had gone really wrong.

“They –” Stiles gasped when Peter let go of him.

“Not yet baby,” Peter sighed, stopping Stiles from talking. He sat on the couch and gently pulled Stiles onto his lap, wrapping his arms around the shaking boy once again. Peter held him to his chest, letting the damp face press into his neck as he dissolved into tears once again.

“That’s is,” Peter said softly, his voice barely a whisper. “Just let it all out,” one of his hands rubbed soothing circles on Stiles’ back, trying to offer him some comfort.

The two stayed like that for what seemed like hours. Stiles clinging to Peter’s shirt, his face hidden as his body shook in every single emotion is had tried to repress. Peter just let Stiles take as long as he needed. He knew that Stiles would feel vulnerable as soon as he calmed, yet Peter could not just leave him. He felt helpless, offering what he hoped to be soft reassuring words that he knew Stiles wasn’t really hearing.

Eventually, Stiles moved from sobs to quiet hiccups as his body began to lose the tension that was holding it so ready to fight.

“That’s it,” Peter said, his voice still quiet. “Are you feeling better?”

Stiles didn’t verbally respond but his grip on Peter’s shirt loosened.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Peter asked, his voice soft and gently. He expected Stiles reaction but it still hurt to see the boy tense once again.

“They – someone – they took everything,” Stiles whispered.

“Everything?” Peter asked, making a plan to settle Stiles and try to convince him to sleep before seeing if it was possible to follow any trace of whoever had taken his belongings.

“All – all my notes,” Stiles said, his voice hitching. “My mountain ash. Everything on my laptop. It’s all gone.”

“What?” Peter asked, his own anger building.

“They took it all,” Stiles said, his tone defeated. “Even the knife and my bat.”

“Why –”

“You didn’t know?” Stiles asked softly, pulling away from Peter enough to be able to look at his face.

“Of course I didn’t,” Peter said, shocked that Stiles would even think such a thing. “I would never leave someone unable to defend themselves. It is barbaric. Why would they do that?”

“They don’t trust me,” Stiles pointed out, his voice soft but the hurt clear.

“They are stupid,” Peter said firmly, letting his eyes connect with Stiles’, not wanting Stiles to fall into his own self-loathing. “They had no right to take _anything_ from you.”

“I can’t believe – how – I’m so stupid,” Stiles said bitterly. “I’ve done so much for them. I’ve nearly died so many times and they don’t even have the guts to talk to me. I shouldn’t be as upset as I am. I shouldn’t feel betrayed –”

“Don’t,” Peter said firmly. “You are allowed to feel emotions. Do not, for one second, think they are stupid or that you are stupid.”

“I feel stupid,” Stiles muttered, looking away from Peter.

“You are anything but stupid,” Peter said honestly, hoping that Stiles would hear the truth of his statement.

They sat together in silence for a moment, Stiles unconsciously leaning back into Peter’s chest, his eyes felt heavy and his brain was foggy. Nothing that went though his mind made any real sense.

“Where’s your phone?” Peter suddenly asked. He had just realised that if they were so inclined, the pack could use it to track Stiles and keep an eye on him. It was something he wouldn’t put past them at this point. He had never thought they would be so mean as to remove his belongings.

A part of Peter seethed at the thought. If he had not taken Stiles to his apartment, then what would have occurred. Would they have still gone through with it? Would they have done something to him to stop him realising or stopping them?

“Home,” Stiles said blandly, no real emotion showing in his tone, even though his scent told a different story. There was a mixture of differences within his scent, no one emotion trumped another but it was slowly fading.

“You left it?”

Stiles nodded, exhaustion sinking in.

“Did you tell your dad that you –”

“He’s busy,” Stiles said. “I just – I don’t want to be there. I don’t feel…” he trailed off.

“You’re welcome here,” Peter said gently.

“I– I want to forget it all,” Stiles admitted. “I don’t want to think.”

“If you want you can pick something to watch and we can forget about the rest of the world for now,” Peter suggested. “No one knows where you are, or where I am. As long as you’re here, you’re safe from them.”

“I –” Stiles paused, he licked his lips before nodding. “Please.”

“Of course,” Peter agreed, without any hesitation.

It took a lot of patience and prompting on Peter’s part to get Stiles to sit up, so they could reach the remote. It took even more time for Stiles to find something he wanted to watch as most of the things he saw had memories tied to the pack.

Finally, the two settled on a show that neither of them had seen but seemed to be fairly harmless as they managed to stay on that channel for from than a few minutes until the others where Stiles had fallen back and shook his head, prompting Peter to turn it off.

Peter could sense just how exhausted Stiles was, it was evident in the way his body had sagged against his chest and his head had rested against his shoulder as he watched through half lidded eyelids. It wouldn’t be too long until the younger male would fall asleep.


	4. The Morning - Or Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost been a month, and I am sorry! I got caught up with other things and every time I opened this story up, I just hit a blank wall. I need to be a certain mindset to write this one and it's difficult when I have lots of things to do and when I need to be an actual functioning adult. Although, saying that I am currently on the university campus and I have finished this chapter and almost done the next one, so the functioning adult part is debatable.

The last thing Stiles remembered, was watching a child with pink rabbit ears cackling before he was brought back to awareness.

“Wha –” Stiles mumbled, too tired to move his body despite the feeling of it being moved.

“Shh,” Peter said softly. “Try and get some more sleep, ok?”

Stiles nodded, letting Peter’s quiet voice pull him back into the darkness.

The next time Stiles woke, Peter was nowhere to be seen. Stiles had been laid on the guest bed and had been covered with the blanket. Peter had moved him here and tucked him in, Stiles didn't try to analyse why that felt good to know, or why it made his body feel warm. He thought over what he knew, Peter had been there for him. The man hadn't taken part in stripping him of his belongings, nor had he agreed with the decision that they made to do so. Mostly, Stiles knew that he felt calmer here. He didn't _trust_ Peter but he knew the man would keep him safe from the pack.

Staring up at the ceiling, Stiles blinked back the tears that threatened to return. He knew Scott had a part in what had happened. His _best friend_  had been one of the people to break into his room and remove everything linked to the supernatural. It wasn't fair.

Groaning to himself, Stiles pushed the blankets down off his body, rolling onto his front and burying his head into the pillow. He didn't want to deal with anything. He wanted the knowledge of what had happened to be gone. He didn't want to know about the supernatural if this was how they would treat him. Stiles had been hurt countless times and in response, his friends turn against him and the only one there is an ex-murdering zombie. It felt like some sick joke.

Stiles could hear Peter moving about and shutting cupboards, probably making an effort to be loud so Stiles knew where he was. The thought of leaving the bed was a lot to handle though, so Stiles decided to stay face-down, wallowing in self-pity.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Finally having made the effort to pull himself from the inviting bed, Stiles made his way towards the noise. Peter was stood with his back towards him, a pot on the stove top.

"Good morning," Stiles said softly.

"Afternoon," Peter quipped back, not looking over to where Stiles was stood.

"Oh... I didn't think it was that late."

"Don't fret," Peter soothed. "You needed time to recharge yourself."

Stiles shrugged, before realising Peter couldn't see the movement. He desperately wanted to stop thinking about everything, deciding to bite the bullet, so to speak, he asked about something that was sparking his curiosity.

“So since you’re into… that,” Stiles said, his embarrassment showing again as Peter tried to hide his smile. “Does that mean you’re only interested in… littles?”

“Not at all,” Peter said, his focus on the food that he was cooking. Stiles had woken up after noon, and Peter had taken pity on the boy and had prepared food knowing that he would be hungry after sleeping for so long. “We tend to get drawn together but it doesn’t always work out and sometimes friendships are better than an actual relationship.”

“What if – what if you liked someone but they weren’t –”

“Littles aren’t the make-or-break factor. Overall, it’s about offering so much more than just something that can benefit one group of people. Everyone can grow from guidance and protection. Discipline is not a necessary thing but it adds to the whole situation. Not everyone that likes having a Daddy is a little. Normally, they are just submissive people that need more attention and guidance, which is not a bad thing,” Peter finished.

Stiles nodded, it made sense in a strange way. He had been tempted to research more into that specific kink, but upon returning home, he had found the lack of _everything_ that was left behind and his urge to research had disappeared completely. In its place was pure betrayal.

"I made soup, I didn't think anything overly heavy would be good for you after all the stress of last night," Peter explained, moving to get a bowl from a cupboard on his left. 

It was strange, even more so than when he first entered Peter's dwelling and found an actual _home._ Stiles had never once imagined Peter cooking meals, or caring all that much about other people. It made Stiles recall how much Peter emphasised the words 'guidance and protection' and seeing _this_  side of Peter that made soup for someone who had been so emotional... Stiles could see Peter in the role of someone who cared. That realisation made his chest ache. 

Stiles wanted someone who cared. Sure, his father was someone who cared but the man had been so busy lately that Stiles had been alone more often than not. Plus, Stiles felt unable to be _himself_  after everything that had happened. He wanted someone who would take him as he was. Someone who wouldn't judge him based on his past actions. Someone who wouldn't act like what happened when he was possessed was _his_ fault.

Strangely enough, Stiles could see Peter offering all of the above. The man had gone through his own troubles, battled his own demons. He had been the cause of death for other people and he wouldn't prosecute Stiles for doing the same. Peter had even _told_ Stiles that what happened was not his fault.

"You ok?"

Stiles blinked, looking up to Peter. The man was stood before him, worry showing in his eyes. The soup had been dished up, sitting in a bowl on top of a tray with a few slices of buttered bread next to it. When had _that_  happened?

"Stiles?"

A hand on his shoulder.

It wasn't right. Peter shouldn't care. No one else seemed to care. Why did Peter?

Peter didn't say anything else, noticing the semi-distant look in Stiles' eyes. Instead, he pulled the younger man towards him, wrapping his arms around the boy and rubbing his back gently as the shaking became more apparent.

"You - you don't have to do this," Stiles finally said, ignoring Peter's soft questions from before. He _had_  to make sure Peter knew that. Peter didn't owe him anything. He didn't have to let Stiles cry on him, or hold him when things got wrong. No matter how much Stiles secretly wanted it, he wouldn't force that on anybody.

"I know I don't have to," Peter said softly, seeming to notice what the problem was. "I _want_  to," he stressed.

That firm response broke the final string holding Stiles back. He clung to Peter's body with all of his might, not wanting to let go. He feared that the lack of touch would make Peter take the words back and no matter how much he would accept it, he didn't want that. He wanted everything - _anything_ Peter would be willing to offer him.

Peter let Stiles stay stuck to him for a minute. He had a suspicion of what the younger man was thinking, of how desperate he was to have someone and it pained Peter that Stiles went from having so many people to depend on to suddenly seeming to have only one. Peter wasn't dependable, not to the pack. He could only imagine the chaotic thoughts swirling around the boy's mind. It made Peter yearn to do what he could, even if it was just letting Stiles hide in his apartment until he felt strong enough to venture back out into the world.

Gently pushing Stiles to an arm's length away, Peter looked down at him with a somewhat critical eye. The boy still looked tired, his sleep had not been deep, nor restless. Part of Peter wanted to bundle the boy in blankets and send him back to bed, but food was important.

"You need food," Peter settled on, deciding to give Stiles a chance to go back to sleep after eating if he really needed it. Stepping back, he picked the tray of food up and handed it to Stiles, nodding towards the living room for the boy to go and eat whilst he cleaned the mess he had cooking.

Stiles took the tray, biting his lip as he argued with himself internally. Deciding to take a leap, he closed his eyes before speaking.  
  
“Thankyou,Daddy,” Stiles said softly, his cheeks pink as he turned from Peter, almost as though not seeing the reaction would make it easier.


	5. Communication and a Safeword

_“Thank you, Daddy,” Stiles said softly, his cheeks pink as he turned from Peter, almost as though not seeing the reaction would make it easier._

Peter inhaled sharply. Stiles turned the rest of the way and began to walk fast.

“Stiles,” Peter called, watching the boy leave the room. “Stiles!” Peter said louder, following him. “Don’t just run.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles shrugged having placed the tray of food on the small coffee table, pretending like his embarrassment wasn’t overly clear to either of them. “It doesn’t matter.”

“We need to talk about this,” Peter pointed out.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Stiles said bitterly.

“There is,” Peter protested. “If you want to try this then I need to know. If this is a joke –”

“A joke?” Stiles repeated incredulously as he turned to face Peter again. The older man’s face was blank. “I wouldn’t have – how…. I –”

“It wasn’t a joke then,” Peter guessed softly. “Not that long ago you were saying it wasn’t right,” he pointed out. “This is a big change of opinion and I had to make sure you weren’t –”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t right. I said people shouldn’t do it,” Stiles huffed.

“Exactly,” Peter said calmly.

Stiles seemed to deflate.

“I – I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“If this is something you want to try…” Peter trailed off. “We need open communication,” he finished.

“It’s something I want,” Stiles said, looking back down at the floor. “I just – I don’t know how…”

“That’s ok,” Peter said gently. “You don’t have to know how. There is no right or wrong way.”

Stiles looked down, avoiding Peter's careful gaze. He felt silly for mentioning anything, worried he went too far and pushed Peter into something he didn't want.

“We’ll need a safeword,” Peter pointed out, he made his way past Stiles, and sat on the couch, motioning for Stiles to join him. The younger man still needed to eat after all and the longer he waited, the colder his soup would get. “I would suggest the typical traffic light system but that isn’t always the easiest. Is there anything you can think of?”

"What? We - why do we need -" Stiles stuttered.

"Even if this does not turn sexual, it is always useful to have a way to stop everything," Peter explained. "It's a way for either one of us to break the scene if we need to. I don't think we'll get anywhere that far just yet, but it's a way for you to say no without saying no if you're uncomfortable. I will, of course, be on the lookout for any real distress and hopefully we can avoid pushing anything too far together."

Stiles knew how safewords worked, but he wasn't aware that they could be used outside of sex. It was a nice thought to have that extra level of security though.

“Would – would fire work?” Stiles asked hesitantly, briefly meeting Peter's eyes before looking away. The shame he felt for mentioning it was overwhelming but it was the one word that he could think of that would stop them both. Yet he knew that the word brought up memories for the older man and the fact that Stiles had used that fact against him before made him feel terrible.

“That would work perfectly,” Peter nodded, not showing any reaction to the word.

“I just – it needs to be an unsexy word and one that wouldn’t come up and it’s –” Stiles tried to explain.

“Stiles,” Peter said firmly. “That works. It is a word that would never normally be said during a scene with me. If you say that, we stop what is happening.”

Stiles nodded, “Ok,” he breathed. “I –”

“I know,” Peter said. He didn’t hold anything against Stiles, well, he had forgiven the boy for his actions. It was somewhat uncomfortable to think of but he knew that Stiles could take care of himself when needed, and he could be ruthless when doing so, which was all that mattered.

Stiles nodded again, still looking unsure.

"Eat your soup," Peter prompted, ending the discussion, they had finalised a word and that was all that mattered.

Stiles nodded, the feeling of overstepping too large for him to verbally respond. He didn't want to do anything that could cause Peter to make him leave, even though the man really should have by now.

Peter watched Stiles out of his peripheral vision, making sure that the young man actually ate. He was pleased to see that Stiles didn't seem too out of sorts to eat, he had had past relationships where it was more difficult to coax the other to eat but Stiles did not seem to show the same warning signs.

Deciding to let Stiles finish, Peter turned on the television, focusing on that rather than Stiles.

"How are we going to do this?" Stiles asked, he had almost finished the soup. He kept his own gaze on his food, ignoring the faint voices coming from the television. 

Peter paused for a moment. 

"You control it," Peter pointed out. "If you to make a clear start point," he added. "You can just call me Daddy. Otherwise, we can keep it as a thing that happens in this apartment if you'd like."

"I'd like that," Stiles blushed.

Peter nodded. "You done?" he asked, nodding towards the almost empty bowl of soup.

Stiles looked down before meeting Peter's eyes and nodding.

"On the table."

Following the softly spoken command, Stiles pushed his tray onto the coffee table. Once it was on far enough not to fall, he pulled his hands back into his lap and fidgeted with his fingers, his nervousness rising.

"Calm down baby," Peter said quietly, moving his arm over Stiles' shoulders and pulling the boy into his side.

"I'm not a baby," Stiles frowned as he spoke, the words slightly harsh even as he let himself be pulled against Peter.

"No, I suppose you're not," Peter mused. "You're almost a young man," it was easy for Peter to fall back into this persona that he hid. It felt natural, like it was the true him. "Would you prefer me not to use baby?"

"I don't know," Stiles said softly. Not a complete refusal.

"Ok," Peter nodded. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles' head. "I would like to kiss you but I know that it's not something all little boys want to do though.”

“I’m not a little boy,” Stiles said before biting his lip, suddenly feeling even more nervous.

“You aren’t?” Peter asked, holding back his smirk. “Do you want to give me a kiss and prove it?”

“I –” Stiles blushed and stopped himself talking. Did he want to kiss Peter? The man _was_  ridiculously attractive. It would be a lie to say that he hadn't noticed. It seemed to be so sudden though. Stiles didn't know just how far he wanted this to go, despite all the talk about how he needed to be 'sexed' by someone. He glanced up and met Peter’s eyes, realising that he would probably regret letting it go if he said no. So he nodded.

Taking pity on him, Peter pulled the boy onto his lap, chuckling at the quiet gasp Stiles made as Peter arranged him so he was straddling the older man's legs.

“Such a shy boy,” Peter said with a smile. “Come here,” he added with a whisper, tilting Stiles’ head up to meet his lips.

Stiles blushed harder, pressing his lips to Peter’s briefly before pulling away again, his cheeks an even brighter shade of red.

“My good little boy,” Peter said with a smirk.

“I’m not little,” Stiles pouted. He knew what Peter was doing, and he hated that it was working to make him feel calmer.


	6. How Far

Stiles couldn't bring himself to meet Peter's eyes. He knew Peter was watching him, waiting for him to either move off his lap or stay and settle.  He knew Peter was still smirking. Stiles didn't know what he had expected, it certainly wasn't for Peter to let him press the briefest of kisses against his lips and then be satisfied.

Peter's smirk fell as Stiles continued to look down with conflicting emotions coming from him. Peter raised a hand and caressed Stiles' cheek, silently pleased when the boy leant into the touch.

"What's on that pretty mind?" Peter asked curiously.

Stiles blushed, glancing at Peter before looking away again.

Peter tutted, chastising Stiles with a soft, "none of that," as he lifted Stiles' chin so he could meet the boy's eyes.

Meeting Peter's blue eyes, Stiles took a breath and lunged forward again. Peter stopped him before he collided their lips back together. He pushed Stiles back slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"You wanted a kiss," Stiles muttered.

"And you gave me one," Peter pointed out gently.

"But -"

"Stiles," Peter said, strangely firm yet gentle as he spoke. "You don't need to do anything you aren't comfortable with," he reminded him. "How far have you gone with someone?" Peter asked.

"Wh - why do -" Stiles blushed brightly. 

"It's ok darling," Peter reassured him. "I know you were in a relationship with Malia," Peter prompted.

"I - we didn't do anything," Stiles stressed. "She - neither of us - we weren't -"

"Breathe," Peter said softly. Stiles followed the direction.

"We made out but nothing else," Stiles admitted. "It felt - I wasn't - we weren't ready," Stiles settled on.

Peter nodded. "Anyone else?" he asked lightly.

"There - there were a few guys at the Jungle," Stiles admitted, his cheeks still red.

"Is that so?" Peter asked, a smile on his face even though his eyes were hard. "Did you do anything more than kiss these men?"

Stiles wriggled slightly on top of Peter's lap, stilling when Peter's hands came to rest on his hips.

"I'm still a virgin if that's what you're asking," Stiles snapped, his cheeks turning even brighter as he glared at Peter. It was the truth.

Peter hummed, squeezing Stiles' waist gently. "There are still things that can happen," he teased. "You could fuck someone's mouth," Peter murmured, his voice lowering. "They could fuck your mouth," he growled quietly as he cupped Stiles' jaw again and ran his thumb over the boy's bottom lip.

Stiles parted his lips unconsciously, letting out a shaky breath as Peter spoke. Peter's other hand, the one on his hip moved to Stiles' thigh, squeezing slightly.

"They could have touched you, wrapped their hand around your undoubtedly gorgeous cock and made you cum," Peter smiled, Stiles was visibly affected by his words and the hand that had moved ever so slightly up his thigh. "You could have done the same to them, I'm sure such a good boy like you would have been more than happy to return the favour."

Stiles shivered, his hands tightening on Peter's shoulders as his eyes fell closed. 

"Or," Peter's voice turned darker, causing Stiles to shiver again and lean closer to Peter. "You both could have been so impatient, not able to stop yourselves acting like little kids as you kissed," Peter whispered, he pulled Stiles closer to him by the neck, letting their foreheads rest against each others. "Were you so hard that you both just rutted against each other like animals until you came in your pants?" he asked quietly.

Stiles made a quiet noise, something close to a moan when Peter accused him of acting like an animal. That had been exactly what happened, they both were inexperienced and got caught up and their orgasms had washed over them before they fully knew what had happened.

"Have you any of that?" Peter asked, guessing that something _had_ happened. Stiles nodded, still keeping his eyes closed as his hips had begun to rock slightly. "Which was it?" Peter asked, drawing a moan from Stiles when he squeezed slightly higher on the boy's thigh.

"We - he -" Stiles was slightly breathless as he tried to explain. "He had me against the wall, we just - we..."

"Go on baby," Peter purred.

"Fuck - we came in our pants," Stiles forced out.

"My pretty boy was so eager," Peter whispered, smirking when Stiles whined and nodded. "No more though," Peter said firmly. "You don't get to go out and beg for orgasms from anyone."

"I - ok," Stiles said, still breathless. "No one else," Stiles promised.

"Good boy," Peter praised, happy when Stiles shivered again. "You smell delectable when you're so excited," Peter said softly, not wanting to scare Stiles off.

"Please," Stiles groaned.

"Please?" Peter questioned.

"Please Daddy," Stiles whined, trying to rock himself against Peter.

"I thought you wanted to give me another kiss," Peter teased.

Stiles lunged forward, pressing his lips against Peter's roughly before groaning as Peter's hand moved to his crotch, pressing against his cock through the jogging bottoms. Stiles let his hands move from Peter's shoulders to around his neck, one hand tangling in the short hair. Peter tightened his hand around Stiles' jaw, prompting the boy to tilt his head slightly. Stiles let Peter take control of the kiss, letting himself fall into the different sensations. Peter's tongue coaxed Stiles into his mouth, almost playing a game of tag as Peter massaged his hand against Stiles, relishing in every moan and whine that was released into his mouth.

Peter growled as Stiles' arousal spiked even further, he was getting close. Peter pulled back from Stiles' lips, wanting to reattach himself when Stiles protested with a whine. He wanted to watch Stiles. He wanted to see when the boy became so overcome with pleasure.

Peter held Stiles' neck upright, stopping the boy falling forward to bury his head in Peter's neck. Stiles had thrown his head backwards, his mouth open as he moaned with his eyes closed. Peter wanted to bury his own face in Stiles' exposed neck, he wanted to bite at the pale skin, to push the boy over the edge. He barely stopped himself from doing so with a growl.

Stiles felt the vibration of Peter's body as he growled, it sent a thrill through his boy. Peter's hand tightened slightly on his neck, causing another deep moan as his hips bucked, trying to get more friction.

"Come on baby," Peter growled, knowing how close Stiles was. He moved his hand faster, doing his best to rub Stiles' cock through his clothing. He drank in the sight of Stiles tensing as his moans turned into breathless gasps, his hips bucking uncontrollably against Peter's hand. There was a brief moment where the boy's movements stilled before he cried out. Peter watched, transfixed by the sight before him.

If Peter thought Stiles smelt intoxicating before, it had nothing on how he smelt having just orgasmed. Perhaps it was the complete lack of negative emotions, Stiles was feeling pure positive feelings that only elevated his natural scent, added with the sweet smell of semen was something Peter wished he could bottle up. He couldn't wait until he had the chance to lay Stiles down and have complete access to that pure scent without any barriers, but that would have to wait.

Peter let Stiles fall forward, mouthing gently at Peter's neck as he tried to get his breath back.

"Do - do you want -" Stiles tried, hushing when Peter shook his head.

"Not today darling," he said. "You can explore me fully another time if you want to, for now you need to get changed and then get ready for school tomorrow," Peter pointed out gently.

"I don't want to go," Stiles said with a frown.

"I know," Peter whispered, burying his face back into Stiles' neck, unable to help himself. He would let Stiles stay close by until he came back to himself, before doing his best to prepare the boy for tomorrow.

"Can - can I just stay here?" Stiles' breath hitched as Peter kissed his neck.

"I would love that but it would be irresponsible of me to agree," Peter said seriously, once again pulling away from Stiles before he did something the boy would regret.

"I don't want to see them," Stiles said quietly, his eyes falling.

"Hey, it'll be ok," Peter said softly, pressing a soft kiss to the boy's lips.

"You promise?"

"If it isn't, I'll kill them," Peter promised.

Stiles' frown turned to a smile as he groaned and moved his head onto Peter's shoulder.

"I shouldn't be happy about that," Stiles protested.

"If it helps, I will happily get rid of the pesky pack to keep my little boy feeling good," Peter promised again, a small smile on his lips as he played with Stiles' hair.

"Stop making me feel fuzzy," Stiles said, trying to stop himself from laughing.

Peter hummed for a second before responding, "I like how you smell when you are happy."

Stiles blushed, he nipped Peter's shoulder, causing the man to growl warningly at him.

"Don't start something you'll regret baby boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter coming up tomorrow because I managed to do a good few over this weekend! I really didn't expect this one to go this way but I am not upset one bit.


	7. Mr. Argent

**_Remember, you don't have to talk to any of them. Try to stay calm._ **

As nice as it was that Peter thought to send that. It did nothing to stop the panic from building in Stiles. He had actually forgotten what he would be walking into when he got home last night. He had fallen into bed, having been fed at Peter's. He was still riding the high of everything that had happened, yet he was thankful for the reminder. Even if it were just so he didn't embarrass himself more by walking over and talking to them. No, Stiles wanted as much distance between him and the _wolves_  as possible.

Minutes passed.

The bell rang.

Yet Stiles still did not move.

It was too late now. If he went in, they would know. If he went to class, everyone would stare at him. They would all judge him. Scott would be there. _Scott would watch him_. Scott knew - _he had to know_ what had happened. He had probably taken part in removing everything from him. Scott would know how much he was struggling, they always knew when the other was hiding their feelings.

Stiles was unaware of just how much he was shaking until a hand grasped his shoulder. It wasn't the contact that brought Stiles back into awareness, it was the pained noise he made.

"Stiles? Are you alright?"

Stiles shook his head, it was stupid to lie when werewolves were around. Even if the person talking to him wasn't one.

"Are you going in?"

Stiles shook his head again, mentally pleading that he wouldn't be forced into the school building. He heard a sigh, one that made him want to duck his head even more and hide in the blankets Peter had wrapped him in the few day's.

"Let me drive you home."

Startled, Stiles looked up, taking note of just _who_  had found him.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Stiles asked roughly, wincing as soon as he heard the words he spoke. "I - I'm sorry Mr. Argent -"

"Chris," Chris said tensely. He ignored Stiles' first question and nodded towards his car. "Come on, let's get you home."

"I have school," Stiles said softly, not sure what compelled him to. Sure, Chris probably wanted revenge for what Stiles - Stiles' body, had done to Allison, but he wouldn't be so careless as to take him in plain sight.

"If you're planning on going in, don't let me stop you," Chris said with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles looked away from Chris, taking another glance at the doors to the school. His throat tightened and he started to shake his head again, he couldn't go in. He heard Chris open the car door.

"In you get then," he said when Stiles looked over.

"You planning on killing me?" Stiles asked, making his way to the passenger seat that Chris was still stood by, holding the door open. Stiles couldn't stop the shiver as Chris chuckled.

"You don't seem too nervous about that prospect," Chris noted with amusement.

"I don't think you're dumb enough to murder me in daylight," Stiles admitted. He ignored Chris' amused look as the man closed the door, giving Stiles a few moments of peace as he made his way around the car. It would be a lie if Stiles were to say he wasn't nervous.

He tensed when Chris climbed into the driver's seat, sending a backwards glance at his jeep as they left the school behind them. He wasn't in any real position to drive, not with how shaky he had been, or with how little sense time seemed to be making at the moment.

Noticing the direction they were heading, Stiles couldn't stop the panicked noise.

"Can you drop me off somewhere else?" he asked quickly, before Chris had the chance to ask him what was wrong. He couldn't go _home_. No one was there, he didn't want to be alone. He wanted - he wanted Peter.

"Where?" Chris asked, shooting a concerned look over to Stiles.

"It's - it's on the other side of town. I don't feel well and my dad -"

"You don't need to make excuses," Chris said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not your father."

"Oh - ok," Stiles said, sinking further into the car seat.

"I was heading over to the other side of town when I saw you," Chris said casually.

"Oh?" Stiles hummed.

"Yes, I need to talk to a certain Hale," Chris continued, glancing over to Stiles again. "Is that where you're heading?"

"I - you can let me out here," Stiles said quickly.

"Stiles, I've already - stop it," he said sternly as Stiles went to reach for the door handle. "If you throw yourself out of the car you'll end up hurt."

Stiles sunk back, looking down at his shoes.

It was silent for a moment.

"Why are you meeting Peter?" Stiles asked.

"I never said Peter," Chris pointed out. He smirked at Stiles' annoyed glance. "He wanted to talk about collecting something," Chris said. "Why are you wanting to be so close to his place?"

"I never said I did," Stiles huffed. "No one even knows where the dude lives," he pointed out.

"I don't need to be a werewolf to know when I'm being lied to Stiles," Chris pointed out.

Stiles licked his lips, suddenly unsure. He pulled out his phone, realising they were getting close to Peter's apartment.

**_Are you expecting Mr. Agent?_ **

Stiles sent the message without a second thought. He wanted to verify what Chris said, Stiles didn't understand how calm the man seemed to be, it didn't make sense to him. Not after everything that had happened.

**_I am. How do you know baby? Shouldn't you be in class?_ **

Stiles bit his lip at the reply. He should be in class, he promised Peter he would go. Stiles only just managed to stop himself from letting out a quiet whine at the thought of upsetting Peter so soon.

**_I'm in his car._ **

Short. Straight to the point. Stiles felt as though jumping straight into explanations would only make him look even guiltier. He stared down at his phone, waiting for the message in response. He jumped as the phone began to ring.

With a shaking hand, Stiles answered it and held it against his ear.

" _Stiles, why aren't you in school?_ " He didn't sound angry, that was good. Although Peter was well known for hiding his emotions, Stiles recalled.

He whimpered, ignoring Chris' eyes glancing over to him. "I couldn't go in," Stiles explained, hoping Peter would understand. "I really tried. I promise."

 _"Oh, baby. If it was that difficult, you could have let me know,"_  Peter's voice was soft and gentle. It soothed the remaining stress that clung to Stiles. " _Chris is bringing you to me?_ "

Stiles nodded, then blushed as he verbally answered, "Yes, he was going to take me home but -"

" _It's ok darling,"_ Peter purred through the phone. " _We'll collect your car later today before you head home._ "

"But -"

" _We'll talk about it more later ok baby,"_ Peter said. " _You need to go home again tonight._ "

"Ok," Stiles sighed down the phone. He said his goodbye to Peter, letting him know they'll be there very soon. He couldn't wait until he could see Peter, he knew that he would feel so much better as soon as the man was in sight.


	8. A Plan Is Made

Chris watched curiously as Stiles fumbled with his seatbelt, before almost throwing himself out of the car and into Peter's waiting arms once the car had stopped. Of course, Peter had been waiting for them. Chris didn't hear what he had said to Stiles on the phone but he gathered that it was more positive since the kid had relaxed for the rest of the short ride.

It was a strange experience to see Peter Hale allowing the touch to happen, he seemed to be taking a major part in the embrace as he let the kid cling to him and bury his face in the man's neck. It only piqued his curiosity when Peter moulded himself to Stiles and they seemed to exchange a few whispered words. He could see Stiles nod before shaking his head as Peter spoke. It was a completely different side of the wolf than he had seen, it was tender and caring. Nothing like the man who had stood before him and ripped his sister's throat out.

Peter seemed to realise that Chris was observing the two of them as he held Stiles at arm's length and gave the boy a smile.

"Why don't you go get a drink and then head up to the guest room?" Peter suggested. "I'll let you know when Christopher is gone," he promised.

Chris expected a protest from Stiles, having seen the kid when he was curious about something. When he went into the apartment without a word, Chris wondered if he  _was_ actually sick. Stiles had been clearly shaken in front of the school, it was partly what caused Chris to stop his car and approach him when he passed.

"Did they tell you they took his things?" Peter asked roughly, moving closer to Chris.

Chris stood his ground, not giving into his urge to step back as Peter stalked forward.

"Who?" he asked.

"The kids," Peter sneered. "Stiles came to me because they had ransacked his room and taken everything related to them."

"What?" Chris frowned. He hadn't heard anything of the sort, he would have protested. "Why would they do that?"

"He suggested dealing with the current threat rather than sending them on their way," Peter explained. "One of the kids brought up the fact he had been possessed and  _clearly wanting to kill a threat is a sign he isn't himself_  rather than being responsible," Peter sneered.

Chris sighed, he had purposely stayed away from the teens, letting them have the chance to deal with things before he stepped in. He did agree that purely sending away a threat wasn't ideal.

"Did they not let him explain?" Chris asked stiffly. "It's stupid for them to just remove themselves -"

"I know Christopher," Peter interrupted. "I was there when the argument happened but I left to make sure Stiles got home safely," even if it was his home rather than the boy's. "He implied he wasn't going to help them when it comes to bite them in the ass," Peter added.

"So they took that as a threat and made him useless against them," Chris ground out, closing his eyes tightly for a second before exhaling harshly.

"He's never been useless," Peter pointed out. "He knew where I lived who knows how long ago," Peter couldn't stop his amused smile. "He 'had to check on me to make sure I wasn't up to no good'," he quoted. "I have no doubt be had a variety of things hidden in that room of his, no doubt his whole house."

"And they cleared it all," Chris frowned.

Peter nodded, "I checked when he calmed down enough to leave alone,"  _or when he had fallen asleep after crying on Peter's shoulder_. "Almost all of them had been there, all over the house, probably all trying to track down everything that could be used against them. Notes, weapons, mountain ash -"

"They had humans with them?" Chris asked sharply.

"Probably Lydia," Peter pointed out. "They wiped his laptop," he added with a growl.

"You want to get it all back," Chris mused.

"I don't want him defenceless," Peter growled.

Chris raised his hands lazily, not wanting the wolf to think he was protesting. He wasn't going to point out how Peter  _had_ been the one to say that Stiles had never been truly defenceless around them, he had shown some amazing initiative in order to get ahead of any threat.

"I had hoped they would have given it all to you," Peter admitted, he knew that the hunter wouldn't agree with leaving someone without a way to protect themselves, especially someone who had been so close to a pack.

"No, have you tried the vet?" Chris suggested.

Peter had to stop himself from growling, "No," he said through gritted teeth. "He wouldn't offer any information if he knew it."

"I'll see what I can find out," Chris settled. "If they were smart, they'll have hidden it. If not it'll be in one of their houses."

"They're lucky they aren't dead," Peter threatened.

Chris' lip twitched, "I heard nothing," he said. He did agree, Chris had wanted to take out the whole pack after Allison had been killed. The only reason he hadn't was because he  _knew_ that Stiles was not truly responsible. He didn't know how none of the boy's friends had noticed his strange behaviour, or why it had taken so long for them to realise something was wrong. Even so, it was irresponsible of the pack to do anything, or even to so forcibly remove someone without explicit reasoning and ensuring their safety.

"Does the Sheriff know?" Chris asked.

"From what I'm aware, he hasn't been around much," Peter said. The man's scent was faint in his own home, no doubt he had been spending a lot of his time at the station handling the chaos from before.

"Ok," Chris said. "I'll stop by the house, have a look myself - I know you did but I need to see myself," Chris said firmly, stopping Peter from interrupting. I'll make my way around the pack and see if anyone knows anything."

Peter nodded stiffly, grimacing when he thanked Chris for his help before heading back to his apartment.

Stiles wasn't in the guestroom, instead, he was sat on the couch, staring at the door with a worried frown, which lessened when he saw Peter.

"Everything ok?"

"Of course, I just needed Christopher to do me a favour," Peter soothed, not protesting when Stiles jumped from his seat and pretty much pounced into Peter's arms. "Did you get yourself something to drink?" Peter asked, nodding to himself when Stiles made a noise of agreement. "Good, let's move so we can sit down," Peter prompted.

Peter saw Stiles bite his lip when he moved away and grabbed hold of Peter's hand, momentarily stunning the older man. The two sat down, Peter letting Stiles burrow back into his side instantly with a small roll of his eyes despite the smile on his face. Peter traced his fingers along Stiles' arm.

"What happened at school?" he asked.

"I couldn't go in," Stiles said quietly. "Chris stopped me before I had a panic attack," Stiles admitted, knowing that he would have fallen into one if Chris had not shown up.

"Why were you so anxious?" Peter asked, even though he had a fairly good idea. Stiles huffed, knowing that Peter wanted him to verbalise it even though it was obvious.

"Wasn't ready to see them," Stiles managed to say steadily.

Instead of asking him to expand, or reminding him that he will need to face them soon, Peter just nodded and said, "Ok."

Peter settled back, letting him and Stiles debate over what to watch before settling on a film being shown on the television. Some time to forget about the morning would be good for Stiles.


	9. Just Wait

Stiles stood quickly, the full feeling seeming to hit him all of a sudden. Peter had seemed to magically pull bottles of water out of nowhere and pressed them into Stiles’ hand whenever he had finished one. Stiles briefly wondered whether Peter had planned this, before shrugging the thought off as silly. Before Stiles had a chance to move away, Peter's hand came to hold his waist and pulled him backwards onto his lap.

"Where are you going darling?" Peter's voice was quiet, barely audible yet it still sent a shiver of want down Stiles' spine.

"I need to pee," Stiles said as he wriggled on top of Peter's lap, squeezing his legs close and waiting for Peter to let go of him so he could just _go._

"That's unfortunate," Peter said, causing Stiles to flush as he realised that this _was_ a plan. "You'll miss some of the movie, do you think you can be a big boy and hold it?"

Stiles bit his lip, he wasn't completely desperate and Peter talking in that quiet voice right next to his ear did unspeakable things to his insides. His bladder was just at that uncomfortable stage where he could feel the urge to go every time he moved. He could stop this, Peter did say that 'no' was still an option, he could say no and then just go to pee. Stiles was in control and if it was too much he would be able to stop it, a huge part of him didn’t want to. He felt bad for not going into school, even though he knew he couldn’t have handled it but he felt as if he had let Peter down.

"Stop wriggling baby," Peter chastised gently. The man moved his hands down from Stiles' waist, along the outside of the younger man's thighs before prying his legs apart and moving them over Peter's own legs.

Stiles whimpered quietly, the feeling was easier to ignore before and his thoughts halted so his focus was solely on the building pressure. Having his legs spread like that did nothing to help.

"Daddy," he whined.

"Shush, I'm trying to watch," Peter said firmly. He moved one hand to rest against Stiles' stomach as the other stayed on the boy's thigh.

Stiles tried. He really tried to stay still. He tried to ignore the feeling building inside of him. He couldn't move his awareness away from Peter. The way the man had snuck his hand under his shirt and traced patterns on his stomach was distracting. The fact that he seemed to be slowly spreading his legs further apart, causing Stiles to copy him was only making him more away of the fullness of his bladder. 

Mostly, Stiles could feel how Peter was partially hard from what he was doing. Stiles didn't know if it was due to the fact he was sat, almost continuously wriggling and quiet desperate noises he was making, or if it was due to Peter keeping Stiles away from the toilet when he _really_  needed to go.

Peter squeezed Stiles' thigh.

Stiles threw his head back, a quiet moan escaping as he squeezed his eyes shut, begging his body to hold on. It was only growing more difficult. Stiles didn't know how much time had passed, but he couldn't pull his awareness away from his bladder.

"Da - Daddy, I really - really need to go," Stiles gasped.

"Just a few more minutes baby," Peter prompted, enjoying the partially pained whimper those words drew from the boy. "Can you do that for me?"

Stiles nodded, he wasn't sure if he could but he would try.

"How are you feeling baby?" the quiet voice was back, barely more than a whisper and words spoken directly into Stiles' ear.

Stiles shook his head, not wanting to talk. He tried to close his legs, only stopping the effort when Peter squeezed his thigh again. Another whimper.

"Tell me," Peter prompted.

"I - I need -"

"I know what you need," Peter interrupted. He pressed against Stiles' stomach gently with his hand, making the boy tense and gasp. "How does it feel?"

"It's a lot," Stiles said, his eyes had begun to fill with unshed tears as he wriggled more, trying to move away from Peter's hand.

"A lot?"

"I'm - I want to pee," Stiles whimpered.

"I know you do, you're being such a good boy," Peter praised, burying his face into Stiles' neck. "You can pee very soon, just finish telling me first."

Stiles shook his head, not sure if he could last.

"You're doing so well," Peter cooed. "Do you like feeling like this?"

"I -" Stiles didn't know how to answer that. The world was becoming more blurry when he settled on shaking his head.

Peter pressed a kiss to Stiles' neck.

"Off you go," he said, moving his hands from Stiles' body.

The lack of touch was a shock, it made another whine escape before reality seemed to catch up to Stiles. He jumped up, groaning as the movement jarred his bladder, before rushing to the toilet.

Peter heard Stiles' moan of relief when he finally let himself go, followed by the quiet sighs. If he was being honest, he hadn't expected Stiles to last as long as he did. He had thought that the boy would protest and put an end to what Peter was doing, he had been so glad he didn't though. The sound of Stiles and the scent of the boy was intoxicating. Sure, Stiles might be conflicted, but he did enjoy it. 

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked when Stiles returned.

The younger man walked stiffly, clearly ashamed of _something_ , perhaps how he felt. He looked so confused that Peter didn't think about letting Stiles burrow into his side before he offered it.

"I'm empty," Stiles murmured, pressing his face into Peter's shoulder. Peter bit back his amusement, normally he heard that phrase used in different contexts but he didn't want to embarrass his boy any further.

"A good empty?"

"It's strange," Stiles said quietly. "I don't normally feel like this and I don't like it."

"Do you normally wait that long?"

A shake of the head.

"Maybe you feel empty because you waited so long then," Peter suggested.

"It was nice," Stiles said softly, his cheeks were red and his embarrassment was back in the air.

"What did you like about it?" Peter asked, knowing he needed to tread carefully.

"I don't know," Stiles admitted.

Peter rubbed Stiles' back, offering what little comfort he could as the boy thought.

"I like you being in control," he finally settled on.

"There are ways for me to be in control that don't make you hold your bladder," Peter pointed out.

"I liked it," it was barely audible, even to Peter's ears. 

"Would you want to do it again?" Peter asked, just because Stiles liked it didn't mean it was something he wanted to repeat. Peter knew that. He didn't want to just assume.

"I - I don't know," Stiles whimpered.

"Ok," Peter agreed. "Just because we try something doesn't mean you have to like it," he told the younger man. "We don't have to do it again and if you decided you want to later on, we can do."

"May - maybe a punishment?" Stiles asked hesitantly.

Peter hummed thoughtfully. That could work. Stiles did enjoy it but there were clearly mixed feelings that he had about enjoying such a thing, it would be useful as a punishment, nothing too serious and Stiles would need to be reminded that he could stop it, but it might be a good starting point.

"Are you planning on being bad?" Peter teased, letting his hand move up to Stiles' hair.

Stiles shook his head quickly, relaxing more as Peter ran his fingers through his hair. 

"I'll keep in mind it's something you have mixed feelings about," Peter said. "I don't know if I'll use it as a way to correct any unwanted behaviour but if I do _anything_  you are uncomfortable with, you are always more than welcome to stop me," Peter reminded.

"I know Daddy," Stiles said quietly. "I - I thought about saying no."

"You did?"

Stiles nodded.

"I really needed to pee and I knew that if I said no then you would have let me."

"I'm glad you knew that baby," Peter smiled, letting the term slip back in since Stiles had called him Daddy again.

"You liked it," Stiles pointed out.

"I did," Peter agreed. "I had a gorgeous little boy on my lap all wriggly and making such pretty noises."

Peter caught Stiles' eyes, smiling wider at the deep blush. His boy was so adorable when nice things were said about him. Peter chose to focus on that aspect rather than _why_  Stiles found praise and compliments so uncomfortable to receive.


	10. Lunch

Stiles stayed somewhat blissed out for the next hour, leaving Peter to revel in the possibilities of what more intense things could do to the boy. He itched to try it. He wanted to see Stiles succumb to pleasure more than anything. He knew that the boy would take to it all perfectly.

“What time is it?” Stiles murmured, pressing himself closer to Peter.

“Almost lunch time,” Peter said softly. He ran his ran down Stiles’ back, smiling at the way Stiles snuggled closer.

Stiles frowned at Peter, “How is it? It hasn’t been that long.”

“It has sweetheart,” Peter said, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple. “You need some food.”

“Don’t wanna,” Stiles mumbled.

“I know, but we can come back and relax after you eat something and have a drink.”

Stiles made a noise of protest, wriggling until he was sat on Peter’s lap, his head buried into his neck.

“’m staying here,” Stiles mumbled against Peter’s neck, wriggling as Peter chuckled.

“Last chance darling,” Peter warned quietly.

Stiles didn’t respond verbally, he just wound his arms around Peter’s shoulders and stayed right where he was. Peter let out a growl as he stood with Stiles still attached to him. Stiles squeaked as Peter moved him around slightly until his hands were holding him under high thighs.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, his voice higher than normal.

“I did give you a chance,” Peter pointed out. He squeezed Stiles’ thigh as he made his way around the apartment. He had to pause for a second when Stiles kept moving around to warn him that he shouldn’t do that unless he wanted to fall. Peter hid his amused reaction to Stiles making a panicked noise and ducking his head back into Peter’s neck.

Peter gently placed Stiles on the kitchen countertop, staying close by until Stiles let himself loosen his grip on Peter.

“Don’t want to let go,” Stiles admitted, moving his hands down to Peter’s chest in order to hold onto his shirt to keep him close.

“You need to for a little while baby,” Peter smiled, lifting Stiles’ chin upwards so he could meet his eyes.

Peter didn’t anticipate Stiles leaning forward, but he was never one to turn down someone as adorable as Stiles was. He let the boy connect their lips, letting him keep control of just how the kiss developed. Stiles kept it soft and explorative, his eyes closed and his body lax as he leant forward into Peter.

Peter pulled back slowly, hearing Stiles’ whine.

“Food,” he reminded the younger man. He watched as Stiles opened his whisky eyes and nodded with a small pout, one that made Peter want to kiss him again. He knew that it wouldn’t be the best idea since Stiles did need food and he would be very tempted to forget that fact if he were to give in to the urge to kiss him again.

Stiles watched as Peter gave him a true smile before turning to rummage through the cupboards. It still shook his mind to see Peter like this, he knew the man wasn’t _evil_ , it was easy to think of him as the bad guy though. To see the smiles and to hear the laughter that he had done left his whole body warm. He felt as though it was something special between the two of them, something that wouldn’t just disappear when Stiles left.

“Anything you want?” Peter asked, glancing back over to Stiles.

Stiles shook his head, unable to stop his own smile. He felt more grounded than he had moments ago. He still felt fuzzy but it was more manageable, and whilst he wanted to be curled around Peter like an article of clothing, he was able to restrain himself.

“A sandwich then,” Peter thought aloud.

Stiles watched as Peter stylishly glided around the room, pausing momentarily to retrieve a glass of water, which he placed next to Stiles. It was transfixing to watch the man move and collect everything he needed, he made quick work of buttering bread before asking what Stiles would prefer as the filling.

Peter knew he was being watched, he could feel the weight of Stiles’ eyes on his back and the way the boy's heart caught whenever he looked back. It had been a long time since someone had paid such close attention to him when he was not doing anything spectacular and it only served as something to make Peter feel even better at allowing Stiles to go to him as somewhere safe.

Finishing, Peter placed the diagonally cut sandwich before Stiles, frowning when he noticed the still full glass of water.

“Drink,” Peter prompted.

Stiles’ cheeks pinked as he picked up the glass and brought it to his lips, it wasn’t until the first gulp of water that he realised just how thirsty he was. He had drained the glass soon after. Peter said nothing as he took the glass from him and went back to get more water.

Taking the hint, Stiles kept his eyes off the man and began to eat the sandwich he had prepared. It was a simple peanut butter sandwich, nothing too heavy. Another glass of water was set on the table by Peter before he began to clean up after himself, washing the knife he had used and putting things away.

Much like the first glass of water, Stiles hadn’t realised just how hungry he was until he had taken that first bite.

“Slow down,” Peter said gently, making Stiles pause for a second before dutifully chewing his food.

Once Stiles had finished, he waited a second, biting his lip as he thought over everything he wanted to say. He had mixed feelings with a lot of his different wants and desires.

“Peter?” Stiles finally said quietly, not meeting the man’s eyes when he turned with a questioning look. “I – can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Peter replied promptly.

“It’s a request – but you don’t have to do it,” Stiles added quickly. Already, he had begun to blush at the idea of voicing just what he wanted. “It – it doesn’t matter. I’m being stupid.”

“Stiles –”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. You probably don’t even want to so don’t worry. I’m being silly so just forget it, it’s nothing –” Stiles babbled.

“Stiles,” Peter interrupted, his voice loud as he said the boy’s name in order to get his attention. He continued at a regular volume; “Stop telling me what I want and stop insulting yourself, neither of those things are allowed here,” his tone was firm. “Now, tell me.”

Peter watched as Stiles seemed to shrink even more into himself, making him look even younger as he focused his whole attention on the floor in front of him.

It was with a quiet sigh that Peter made his way back over to Stiles, who was still perched on top of the counter. He stepped between Stiles’ legs and lifted the boy’s head so he could look into his eyes.

“I’m not a mind reader,” Peter said softly. “If you want something, you will need to tell me. If it is something I cannot give you, I will explain why,” Peter tightened his grip on Stiles’ chin as the boy tried to look away again. “No,” Peter said, making sure Stiles knew that he wouldn’t accept him looking away just yet. “Communication is important, if we continue this then you need to accept that. When we discuss things, there will be no self-deprecating. You will not tell me what _I_ want, just as I will not tell you what you want. Understood?”

Stiles nodded, not sure if his voice would work as he stared into Peter’s eyes.

“Good,” Peter praised, moving his hand away from Stiles’ chin. “Now tell me what you wanted baby.”

“Can – will you…” Stiles flushed brightly as he stumbled over the words. “I’m still – you know I’m – _fuck_ – I _can’t_ ,” he whined.

“You can darling,” Peter said gently. “I bet you can be so brave for me and ask,” his voice grew even softer as he pulled Stiles closer to the edge of the table. He let the boy cling to him again as his anxiety grew. Peter barely made out the words that Stiles whispered against his shoulder.

“Fuck me?”

Peter let out a slow breath, taking a second to take in just what he thought he heard. He could hear Stiles’ heart rate beating fast, not helping the boy stay calm. Peter recalled just how Stiles had said _‘you probably don’t even want to’_ , it made him want to growl at the fact Stiles clearly did not see just how desirable he was. Instead, he felt like he had to _ask_ and that that request would be denied. Even though he knew it was probably not the pitiful teenage packs fault, it only made him want to tear them apart all the more.

“Can you look at me?” Peter asked quietly, letting Stiles shake his head fast. “Ok,” Peter soothed. “I’m going to move us elsewhere, ok? Then we can talk a little.”

Stiles made a worried sound at the back of his throat but he didn’t argue Peter’s suggestion. Taking that as an agreement, Peter gathered Stiles back into his arms. Holding the boy up by his legs as he took them through the apartment again. Peter considered taking them back to the couch, but he doubted that Stiles would react too well to that, assuming it was a denial. Therefore, Peter took Stiles to his room, he caught Stiles’ shocked intake as he sat him down on the bed.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t want you?” Peter asked, unable to stop the question.

“Why would you want me?” Stiles asked. It pained Peter that it was an actual curiosity in that question and no trace of deception.

Making a snap decision, he pulled Stiles up by the hand and led him towards the full-length mirror he had. He positioned Stiles in front of it and stood behind him, his chin on Stiles’ shoulder as he met his eyes in the mirror.

“Why would I want you?” Peter repeated the question. “You are remarkable. You look good enough to eat. You have such an amazing mind. You had no hesitation about protecting the people you care about. Plus,” Peter added, his voice velvety as he spoke into Stiles’ ear, “you are _my_ adorable little boy.”

Stiles fidgeted on the spot, unable to look away from Peter’s eyes. He could see the redness of his cheeks, and part of him wanted to believe Peter. He really did. The only thing that really hit Stiles, was the amount of possessiveness that Peter had said the last sentence with. That soothed the worry in Stiles’ chest. It let him relax back into Peter’s body.

“I’m not going to fuck you when you are thinking such horrible things about yourself,” Peter said matter-of-factly. “You don’t have to rush into it. I have no issues with waiting until you’re ready –”

“I am ready. I am so ready,” Stiles interrupted.

“Not when you are thinking like this,” Peter said firmly. “Plus, I would rather take my time and make you feel like the most cherished person on the world.”

Stiles’ breath stuttered arousal flooded his scent.

“You smell divine,” Peter purred. “I would want to make that scent last as long as I possibly could. I would see how strong I could make it, see how many times I can take you apart under my hands.”

“Peter,” Stiles whispered, his voice soft as one of his hands moved behind him between his back and Peter’s stomach.

“I know baby,” Peter mumbled. He pulled Stiles away from the mirror, leading Stiles back over to the bed. “Not today though, you’ve been through a lot today. We can wait a little longer and make it so special.”

Stiles nodded, seeming to have given up on getting Peter to have sex with him just yet.


	11. School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas Eve! Or Christmas if you guys are ahead of me/reading this later on. If you don't celebrate it, I really hope you have a great weekend!

Stiles was sat in the jeep. His hands were shaking and he was trying to keep taking steady breaths. He had spent the night going over every single possibility that could happen, he was prepared for the pack to shun him, he was prepared for everyone to suddenly hate him. He had even considered the chance of the universe turning against him.

Peter had tried to calm him, having driven him to school to collect his jeep and making him promise to let him know when he got home. Peter had even called him before Stiles went to bed, letting him voice his worries and concerns about the upcoming morning. The one thing Peter had done, was promise to be available if Stiles needed him. In return, Peter had made Stiles promise to contact him if he felt overwhelmed, rather than panicking in the parking lot like the previous day.

So, it was here, in the jeep, sat in front of the school, that Stiles tried to focus on his breathing as he searched for Peter’s phone number in his contacts. It had barely rung once before Peter had answered.

“ _Oh sweetheart_ ,” Peter said as a greeting, having heard Stiles’ panicked breaths over the phone. “ _You’re doing so well. Just take a few deep breaths for me, ok_?”

Peter’s voice cleared some of the fuzz in Stiles’ head, making it easier for him to join Peter’s overexaggerated breaths. Peter continued to guide Stiles over the phone until the boy was able to breathe normally again.

“I can’t do this,” Stiles whispered, knowing that Peter would hear him. He felt so out of his depth, even his preparation last night of what could happen didn’t seem to be helping.

“ _You can_ ,” Peter said gently. “ _School is important and you know that. I’ll be a message away if you need me, I promise. If anyone does anything to hurt you, I will make them regret it. It will all be ok_.”

“You promise?” Stiles hated how young he sounded asking for that reassurance, even as Peter’s threat of harming anyone who hurt him had eased some of the worry.

“ _I promise_ ,” Peter agreed firmly. “ _Now, we both know how brave you are_ ,” Peter said. “ _Go show them that they don’t mean anything to you_.”

“Thank you,” Stiles breathed, even though he didn’t feel it, he felt brave enough to face them. He knew that Peter would take care of him if he needed it.

Not wanting to lose the bravado that Peter had inspired, Stiles climbed out of his jeep, fighting the urge to turn back as he made his way into the school, hoping beyond hope that his nervousness wasn’t as visible as he thought it was.

Stiles managed, he made his way to class, ignoring the world around him as he focused on the fact he was purely there to get an education. He could pretend like the people around him did not matter. It was about half-way through the first lesson that Stiles caught sight of Scott, who he had been making an effort to ignore as much as he could.

Scott was staring at him, eyes hard and mouth pressed into a thin line. He was oozing annoyance and Stiles wondered if it was due to the fact he seemed to be handling things better than they had hoped. Once he had noticed his friends stare, he couldn’t push it back out of his mind. He could feel the stare, along with the eyes of the other wolves.

Stiles knew that they were waiting. They wanted to see him break. They expected him to break. Stiles dropped a hand to his lap, trying to stop the slight shake of the movement as he slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket and let it sit on his lap under the table.

**_I can’t do this_ **

Stiles sent the message without a second thought, he wanted a reminder that they weren’t an example of everyone in the world. He needed to know that  _someone_  liked him and didn’t want to watch him flounder.

**_What’s happened?_ **

Stiles wanted to close his eyes and let himself fall into what Peter was offering. He wanted the comfort and he wanted to hear Peter’s voice again. The temptation to sneak off into the toilets to hear Peter was strong, the only thing stopping him was knowing the wolves would probably be able to hear him and he didn’t want to put Peter in that position.

**_I just can’t do this. I tried but I can’t_ **

Stiles felt slightly guilty, he had promised Peter that he would try and whilst he had, it wasn’t much.

**_You can darling, after school we can have some time to ourselves and we can forget about all of them._ **

Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he could focus on that promise. He could use that to make it through the day. He could do it.

Focusing back onto his work, Stiles tried his best to ignore the eyes on his back. He knew that every one of them knew how uncomfortable he was, he knew that they could tell how anxious he was around them. He wondered just who had taken his things, whether it was the ones sat behind him, whether it was Scott’s idea.

Stiles managed to make it to lunch, he avoided looking back at any of the wolves that shared his classes. He also managed to not message Peter again. The lessons dragged, time seemed to take triple the length it should have, none of the lessons even covered any new content that Stiles could lose himself in.

Lunch found Stiles heading back towards his jeep before he even considered another choice. He couldn’t go into the cafeteria, he couldn’t be around them in a space where they could talk to him if they wanted.

“You better not be planning on running away again,” was said behind him as he fumbled with his phone, debating on contacting Peter.

Stiles turned quickly, coming face-to-face with Lydia Martin. She stood with a hand on her hip, a delicate eyebrow raised as she stared at Stiles.

“Come on,” she snapped, turning on her heel and walking away. She didn’t head towards the canteen as Stiles dutifully followed behind, preparing himself for the worst situation.

**_Lydia just came up to me_ **

Stiles sent the text, just in case he did come out of this ‘chat’ in a negative way. That way Peter would at least know where to look for him if he wanted to.

**_If she takes you to the pack, just leave_ **

The advice was sound. Stiles could understand the reasoning behind it, he did agree. He didn’t think he would be able to talk to any of them just yet. The only reason he had followed Lydia was because it was an instinct to listen when she said something.

Lydia didn’t say anything as she led Stiles through the school, until they came to a classroom that tended to stay unused. The door was open and before Stiles could ask just who was waiting for them, he had his arms full and hair in his face as another face was buried into his neck.

Letting himself relax into the hold, Stiles recognised Malia’s scent. She clung to him as he met Lydia’s eyes.

“We need to talk,” Lydia stated, and Stiles could only nod with a baffled expression.

“Why do you smell like Peter?” Malia asked when she pulled back, a confused look on her face. Lydia’s soft expression had turned concerned at that question.

“He didn’t accuse me of being a monster,” Stiles said, he heard his own voice tremor.

“Remember I murdered my family Stiles,” Malia reminded him, almost repeating the same words that she had before. “I never thought you were a monster.”

“That is why I love you,” Stiles said softly, a smile on his face as he looked at the girl.

“They were being stupid,” Lydia said suddenly. “Their plan to move everything was ridiculous as well –”

“You knew?” Stiles said stiffly, trying to hide the betrayal he felt.

“I didn’t agree,” Lydia said. She frowned for a moment before sighing, “It’s all at my house. They wanted me to go through it and see if there was anything of use or anything that pointed to you being a risk.”

“They –” Stiles couldn’t form a full sentence at the thought. His things were at Lydia’s. Why would she tell him this? Was it a case of trying to use this against him?

“Stiles,” Malia called. “They had no right to kick you away –”

“They had a right but they made a mistake,” Lydia interrupted. “You  _made_  that pack work. You brought most of the people there together. If it weren’t for you then Derek wouldn’t have all of the Betas –”

“Stiles, you can’t leave us,” Malia whispered.

“I didn’t choose to,” Stiles pointed out.

“You’re pack,” Malia continued, as though Stiles had not spoken.

“I’m not,” Stiles said with a small smile. It was nice to know that Malia would still consider him as someone to trust.

“No. You  _are_  pack,” Malia stressed. “I stayed human for  _you_ , not  _them_. I am not leaving you.”

“We’re not leaving you,” Lydia said. “You’re an idiot for thinking we would.”

“You didn’t exactly act like leaving me wasn’t the plan,” Stiles snapped. For the first time, Lydia looked ashamed.

“After you left… Theo started talking about you being a threat. Scott – he listened too easily. They planned on checking and seeing if you were planning anything and they needed someone to help them get into anything protected. I agreed on the small chance  _something_  was going on,” she explained.

“You thought I was possessed again?” Stiles asked stiffly.

“Possessed, no. Hurt, yes. After everything that had happened, you changed. I wanted to make sure you were ok –”

“By stealing –”

“By keeping an eye on what they were doing!” Lydia interrupted. “I stopped them burning everything that didn’t prove you were against them. They wanted to destroy it all. All the research, all the resources… I couldn’t let that happen,” Lydia explained. “I told them you could have hidden something, you  _are_  smart enough to do that. They agreed to let me look through everything and make notes of it all before they got rid of it.”

“When?” Stiles asked, his heart loud in his ears.

“They want it all gone this weekend,” Lydia said. “No matter what I say, I can’t make them leave it longer – I am sorry –”

Stiles shook his head, not sure what to think as he pulled out his phone. He didn’t care about them hearing when he hit the call button.

“ _You ok darling_?” Stiles fought the blush as Malia tilted her head in question.

“I’m – Lydia just told me everything is at her house – they are – they’re going to burn it –”

“ _When_?” Peter growled, it was low and threatening and it stopped Stiles’ building panic.

“This weekend,” Stiles said softly, not wanting to admit to himself that he hoped Peter would be able to stop it. “D –  _Peter_ ,” Stiles whimpered.

“ _I know_ ,” Peter said back, just as quietly as Stiles’ whimper had been. “ _We’ll fix it all, I promise. Are you ok? I can come and get you if you need_.”

Stiles shook his head, fighting back the contentedness that was building.

“I’m ok,” it wasn’t the complete truth but Stiles could manage the rest of the day. “You – you still free –”

“ _If you want to come round after school, I will never stop you_ ,” Peter promised. He said it so surely that Stiles let himself not worry. They said their goodbyes before Stiles let himself remember that the two females were with him. The realisation caused his cheeks to flush.

“He treats you good?” Malia asked.

Stiles nodded, refusing to speak. That nod was all that Malia needed, she returned it and jumped back into Stiles’ arms.

“You and Peter?” Lydia asked stiffly. “I don’t trust him.”

“I do,” Stiles said, shocking himself with how sure of that statement she was. “I would trust him with my life,” he added.

“If he does  _anything_  to break that trust, he won’t be able to return from the dead,” Lydia promised.

Stiles smiled. He wasn’t completely alone. He didn’t have the full numbers that he was used to, but the few people on his side were ones that he knew he could trust, ones that had proven themselves to care about him. He couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about that.


	12. Oops

Stiles all but skipped to Peter’s apartment, still feeling light from his talk with Lydia and Malia. The rest of the school day had passed in a much more enjoyable tone, sure, Scott had continued to stare at Stiles with a heated look, but he was no longer alone.

“You seem cheerful,” Peter pointed out with a smile. Stiles had danced by him and made his way to collect a glass of water.

“They don’t hate me!” Stiles gushed, returning with his glass. “They don’t hate me!”

“I heard,” Peter said, his smile growing. He pulled the glass out of Stiles’ hand as the boy practically vibrated in his skin. Stiles bounced in place as Peter watched.

“Let’s do something!” Stiles said happily.

“Like what?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know,” Stiles whined. “I just want to do _something_.”

“There isn’t much I can do,” Peter said. “I’m expecting Christopher again.”

Stiles paused mid-bounce. His grinning face fell and a pout replaced it.

“But Peter!”

“Stiles,” Peter warned, raising an eyebrow.

Stiles grinned wickedly, getting a sudden idea. If he had more control, he would have kept the pout as he whined, “But daddy.”

“Whining won’t work,” Peter said, even as his body betrayed him. He had wilted under Stiles’ whine, half prepared to give the boy what he wanted. “Go take a bath and maybe – _maybe_ ,” he stressed. “We might have time to do something that will be fun.”

“Daddy!” Stiles pouted.

“Go on,” Peter nodded his head, Stiles finally gave in when a loud knock sounded on the door.

“Who’s that?” Stiles asked, perking up again.

“I said I was expecting –”

“Chris!” Stiles remembered. He pranced over to the door, pulling it open before Peter could stop him. He froze at the sight of the man. Chris stood, confident and with a smirk on his lips as he looked past Stiles to where Peter stood.

“Bad time?” he asked, letting his eyes roam back to Stiles.

“Not at all,” Peter said smoothly, he placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and squeezed slightly, grinning when the boy relaxed back. “Stiles was just going to clean up.”

“I was?” Stiles asked, looking back to Peter. “I was,” he said with a nod, seeing the unamused look on Peter’s face. “I’ll just… see you around Chris,” Stiles said, letting his eyes rake over the other man once more before he pretty much ran from view.

“He’s certainly changed his tune,” Chris mused, still staring at where Stiles disappeared to.

“Better day,” Peter shrugged. “Not all of the teens are as stupid as they seem. Everything is at Miss. Martin’s.”

“Lydia,” Chris sighed.

“Exactly,” Peter nodded. He gestured for Chris to follow him as he made his way through the small apartment. “She told Stiles that his belongings will be burnt –”

“Fuck,” Chris said as more of an exhale as he shook his head. “Burning them, that isn’t easy to cover it up.”

“It isn’t going to happen,” Peter said, his voice low as he growled.

“You want me to collect it before then,” Chris pointed out, not bothering with asking since he knew that Peter would only threaten him if needed.

“We need to make sure they can’t do it again,” Peter said. “I won’t let them hurt him again.”

“They won’t react to you threatening them,” Chris said. “They know you would happily tear them apart. What we need is someone that they won’t expect to go against them. We should involve the Sher –”

“No,” Peter said suddenly, his eyes flashing at the suggestion.

“Why not? I need more than just a hunch! Especially when there are teenagers thinking they are on the top and stealing things –”

“Christopher,” Peter said sharply, cutting off the other man. “That man has barely been in his own house. He is the Sheriff. He should have noticed that someone had broken into his house, that his own son was hurt by people that were meant to be his friends.”

“Why do you care?” Chris asked, genuinely curious as to what caused the change in the violent wolf. “The Sheriff could get them all done on breaking and entering,” Chris pointed out. “They stole from his house. He needs to know.”

“No. We do this without him or the pack dies tonight,” Peter snapped.

Stiles decided to forgo the bath that Peter suggested, settling for a shower in its place. He actively made an effort to not take long, wanting to get back to Peter’s side. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Chris, but the man was a werewolf hunter and it was the second day that he would be nearby.

It wasn’t until he was finished that he realised he shouldn’t just put on his original clothes. They still smelt of the school and the pack, he didn’t want to do anything to make Peter not want him around. Forming a plan, Stiles wrapped a towel around his waist before sneaking into Peter’s room, hoping the wolf was preoccupied so he didn’t notice.

The apartment was silent, making Stiles grin at the thought of Chris being gone. Peter’s room had not changed since the precious day, the only change was that Peter’s bed seemed more rumpled. Stiles fought back the urge to burrow himself in the bedding, just to see if he could smell Peter on the sheets.

Still on a mission, Stiles strode over to Peter’s closet, pulling it open and fumbling as he looked through the choices. He wanted to be covered in Peter’s scent. He wanted Peter to be unable to leave him alone.

Rummaging through Peter’s clothes, Stiles found one of the V-necks that he had never seen Peter wear. Even without looking too closely, Stiles could tell that the top would hang low on Peter, it was longer than the man usually wore and it would fall to Stiles’ mid-thigh. Stiles pulled it on with a devious grin, checking his reflection in the full-length mirror. Stiles turned slightly, marvelling at how low-cut the V-neck was. If Stiles were female, he would be showing some serious cleavage. Stiles was glad to see that he was right in his assessment that the top covered his ass, even if it didn’t fall as low as he had thought, it fell slightly higher than mid-thigh but nothing too revealing.

His grin spread even more as he spun, happy with how he looked in the top. He considered stealing a pair of Peter’s boxers to put on, but decided against it. He wanted Peter to be surprised as much as possible.

He stared at himself in the mirror, trying to hide his smile. He gave up, wanting more than anything to climb onto Peter. Stiles frowned at his body, he could see how he was hardening slightly, getting more excited by the thought of being surrounded in _Peter_ ; his scent, his clothes, his house. He just needed Peter.

“Daddy!” Stiles shouted, deciding to be proactive and find the man. He made his way to the kitchen, bare feet padding softly on the floor. Thankfully, the house was warm and Stiles didn’t regret forgoing any other clothing.

“Daddy, I need you,” Stiles whined as he stepped into the kitchen. He had seen the shadow of Peter and he had practically pranced into the room.

It wasn’t Peter who was in front of him. No.

Stiles’ eyes focused on the gun, it was sat in its holster, sat on Chris’ waist and it took the breath out of Stiles. He watched, mouth open as Chris turned slowly, an eyebrow raised. The other joined it when he let his eyes roam Stiles, the boy blushing brightly under the attention.

“I – I –” Stiles stuttered. He saw Peter over Chris’ shoulder. His eyes glittering in amusement as well as he watched Chris’ back. “I – I didn’t know you were still here Mr. Argent!” Stiles gasped, his voice was amazingly high pitched as his hands tightened in the V-neck to keep it pulled as far down as it would go. He suddenly felt a lot more naked than he had done.

“Call me Chris,” the man said, repeating the same words he had said the previous day.

Something in Peter’s eyes switched, they lost their amusement as they narrowed. They grew harder, calculating as he looked beyond Chris to Stiles and took in just what the boy was wearing.

“I apologise for him,” Peter said, his voice carefully blank. “He didn’t listen to what I told him.”

Stiles let his gaze drop. He felt himself flush further, embarrassed by what Peter was saying and how he had just exposed himself. He pulled on the top one last time before he realised that he was no longer half hard, instead, he was fully hard, stood in front of two men in nothing but one of Peter’s V-necks. It was overly clear just how exposed he was, how aroused he was.

Stiles yelped, scrambling backwards as he noticed the two watching him closely. He couldn’t turn redder. He turned on his heel and ran from the kitchen, it would be a good time to become one with Peter’s bed.

“I should go,” Chris said quietly, in a slight daze as his eyes stayed glued to the spot that Stiles had stood

“Indeed,” Peter said tensely. “I trust you can let yourself out. I have someone to check on.”

Chris nodded, still stood. It hit him _why_ Peter had been willing to let Stiles cling to him. _Why_ the man was so insistent on the boy being able to take care of himself. Chris also realised just how unlikely it was that he would be able to forget the image that was currently engraving itself into his brain.


	13. Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy end of the year! It's been a very questionable one hasn't it?  
> So this one is a bit earlier than planned again, but we might as well end the year on a positive note.   
> Be responsible, and stay safe! I wish you all the best possible ending to this year!

Peter followed Stiles through the apartment several steps behind him. He was somewhat surprised to see that Stiles had fled to his room and climbed in the bed. It was endearing to see Stiles in his clothes, it appealed to Peter’s wolf, having Stiles covered in his clothing and laid in his bed.

Peter knew that Stiles knew he was there. The boy had his face buried into the pillow, refusing to look up as his heart beat fast.

“Care to explain what just happened?” Peter asked calmly, reminding himself that Stiles was still new to everything and giving into his own urges wouldn’t do either of them any good just yet.

“I didn’t know he was there!” Stiles said quickly, his voice muffled but still clear to Peter’s ears.

“I know that,” Peter said, he moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed and running a hand down Stiles’ back. “What else?”

“Nothing else,” Stiles frowned into the pillow, not understanding. His body lost some of the tension as Peter rubbed his hand over his back.

“That’s a lie,” Peter sighed. “I don’t like it when people lie to me Stiles. Now, try again.”

“I don’t know!” Stiles whined, finally turning his head to face Peter.

“Stiles. I could smell your arousal,” Peter said calmly. He didn’t want to push too much but he did have an ever-increasing urge to know what he wanted. “Tell me what caused it.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles mumbled.

“Lie,” Peter sighed again. “I am getting impatient Stiles,” he warned, no longer willing to let Stiles dodge the question.

“I –”

“Was it Christopher?” Peter asked slowly. He didn’t need Stiles to verbally answer, the way his heart had stuttered said everything he needed to know. “Do I need to remind you that you are my little boy Stiles?”

“No, I – I know I’m yours,” Stiles said quietly. “I don’t know why – I just –”

“Hey now,” Peter said, gathering Stiles into his arms. He realised that he had taken a step too far as soon as Stiles started to fumble. “It’s ok to think other people are attractive, I just get a little jealous sometimes. Especially when the attraction is mutual.”

“What?”

“He was staring at you baby,” Peter said lowly. “You weren’t exactly covered up, when you turned and ran you showed off those pretty legs of yours.”

“I didn’t!” Stiles gasped, the embarrassment filling his scent again.

“You did,” Peter countered.

“No!”

“Are you saying I’m lying?” he asked, an eyebrow raised and his tone warning.

“No…” Stiles said with a frown.

“He’ll be back tomorrow, right now I think you need an example of why you shouldn’t lie to me. Does that sound ok?” Peter asked, not wanting to overstep too much. He didn’t want to push Stiles too far.

“Yes daddy,” Stiles said quietly, still embarrassed but hopeful to make it up to Peter as best he could.

“That’s a good boy,” Peter praised. “I want to put you over my knee and spank you,” he said softly, his voice like velvet against Stiles’ ear. “Do you think you can handle that?”

Stiles shivered but he still heard the challenge in Peter’s words. He nodded once, not trusting himself to speak. He wanted to protest, to say that he was too old to be bent over and spanked like a child. Stiles knew without even trying that the protests would be half-hearted. He had fantasised about somebody doing such things to him, he was unsure of just how he would react to it though.

“Over my lap baby,” Peter guided, leaning back slightly so Stiles had room to move.

It took some fumbling and a few quiet curses from Stiles before he was comfortable splayed across Peter’s lap. Peter had steadied him somewhat at the worst of times, helping him get his balance before turning slightly, so the rest of his upper body was stabilised by the bed.

“You lied to me twice,” Peter pointed out. “So, twenty I think, ten for each lie,” he explained, running a hand up the back of Stiles’ thigh, slowly pushing the V-neck up as he did so. “I would add more for taking my clothes but you look adorable so I’ll let that slide.”

Stiles couldn’t stay still as Peter’s hand continued to trace higher and the soft tones he used got to him. He could feel the blood flood his cheeks as his embarrassment was still reigning high, it only grew worse when he heard Peter’s sharp intake.

“You naughty little boy,” Peter growled. He had pushed the top up over Stiles’ ass, revealing the bare skin beneath. Peter closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he pushed back the instinct to throw Stiles onto the bed and ravish him. He squeezed Stiles’ ass in warning when the boy started to wriggle, not opening his eyes as he tasted the shame mixed with arousal that Stiles was giving off.

“Just where are the rest of your clothes?” Peter asked, trying _and failing_ to keep his voice as calm as possible.

“I – I wanted to surprise you,” Stiles whimpered. Stiles didn’t think it possible for his body to feel any warmer than it was at that moment.

“You…” Peter let himself trail off as he opened his eyes again. It occurred to him what had happened, Stiles had gotten himself clean and searched for something of _his_ to wear. He didn’t know Christopher was still around and he had gone searching in _nothing_ but the top he had found. “I am certainly surprised my dear,” Peter said gently. “You look positively edible like this.”

Stiles’ next movement wasn’t out of embarrassment from what had happened, more from what Peter had said. Stiles wasn’t sure he would agree with _edible_ being used, but he thought he looked ok.

Peter didn’t wait any longer before making the first strike. There was no warning given to Stiles, only the thwack that echoed in the room as Stiles squeaked. The hit wasn’t hard, yet it left a fading pink outline on Stiles’ buttocks. Peter let his hand run over the mark, listening to Stiles as he regained his breathing.

“Warning would have been good,” the boy snapped.

The second hit was less of a surprise. Stiles had expected it, even though Peter had clearly used a bit more strength due to Stiles’ cheek. Just like the first, Stiles felt the sharp impact before it seemed to spread warmth through his body.

“Attitude,” Peter said simply, squeezing the area he had just hit. The quiet breathy moan that Stiles released was almost like music. “Next time I add more. Remember your word?”

Stiles nodded, not entirely sure why Peter was asking but having the sense to prepare himself just in case.

The next four hits came fast, barely giving Stiles chance to breathe between them. His head fell onto the bed as he groaned, he didn’t know just how he was reacting to this. On one hand, the sting of each hit was different to any other pain he had felt before, yet it was so much more intense. Without realising, Stiles had lifted his body up slightly, waiting for Peter’s next strike. Peter’s hand caressed the pinkened skin as Stiles pressed into the touch.

“That’s it baby,” Peter said softly. “We’re going to go slightly harder now,” he warned, waiting for Stiles to nod his acceptance before striking again.

Another four, not as fast as the last but not leaving time for Stiles to fully recover between each one. Stiles had made breathy groans with each hit, trying to both press back towards the hand hitting him and away from it at the same time.

“You’re taking it so well,” Peter praised. He could tell that Stiles was beginning to clear his mind, Peter pressed his free hand on the boy’s back, offering him that as an anchor if he needed it. “We’re half way there, just ten more.”

Peter didn’t try to hide his smile at Stiles’ whimper, it wasn’t painfilled, nor protesting. Stiles had accepted it and was waiting for what Peter was to give him. Peter chose to move from groups of four to groups of two, just to ensure that Stiles was still ok.

The next two hits resulted in the same breathy groans, ones that turned to soft moans that Stiles seemed to try and hide when Peter squeezed at the reddened flesh.

“Slightly harder,” Peter warned. The next two seemed to take Stiles’ breath, once they were done, the boy let out a low keen. Peter ran his hand along the back of Stiles’ thigh, debating with himself on whether to take some of the pain from Stiles.

The next two didn’t shock Stiles as much, the boy was able to continue his breathing, even as he let out low moans at the impact. Peter had decided against taking pain, reminding himself that it was something akin to a punishment for Stiles.

“Four more,” Peter warned.

“Harder?” Stiles asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Not the next two,” Peter said. “Last two will be. Ready?”

Stiles nodded, tensing himself for the two softer hits. He let out a shaky breath once Peter’s hand had come into contact with his slightly tender ass. Just two more, Stiles pressed his face into the blanket, not sure how he would be able to make it and simultaneously not wanting it to ever end.

It was a soft cry that finalised the last of the hits, along with the echoing noise around the room.

Peter wasted no time in pulling Stiles up from his lap and cradling the boy in his arms as he laid the two of them down on the bed. He looked over Stiles’ face, the boy was sweaty, his eyes were closed, his cheeks red and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You ok there?” Peter asked, pushing the hair away from Stiles’ face. The boy was still breathing heavily and he had his eyes closed. Peter frowned when Stiles didn’t respond and merely just turned his head towards Peter’s hand. “Too much?” he asked.

“No, just fuzzy,” Stiles murmured quietly, as though the words were too hard to push out. “Next time warn me when someone’s still here?” Stiles asked.

“I didn’t expect you to be dressed so revealing,” Peter pointed out with a smile. “I will admit that the end result was pleasurable though.”

Stiles made a noise of agreement. “He showed up all rugged and gun-y,” he added weakly.

“Gun-y?” Peter repeated in amusement. Stiles nodded weakly, still having not opened his eyes as he did so.

“He had a gun on him, maybe more than the one I saw, ‘s hot,” Stiles slurred as he was drifting off to sleep, leaving Peter to ponder just what Stiles admitted.


	14. First Time

Stiles didn't know how long he laid in Peter's arms. He felt safe, _wanted_. It was everything he hoped for that he didn't know he wanted. Stiles kept his eyes closed, knowing that his breathing calm slowly as he let himself sink into the embrace. He didn't want anything to ruin the moment.

"You feeling ok?" Peter asked, running his nose from behind Stiles' ear, down to his neck.

The movement woke Stiles completely, the breathy words sending a shiver through him as he felt Peter. He nodded.

"Words baby," Peter prompted.

"I'm ok," Stiles whispered.

"You're still in my top," Peter pointed out, a hand pushing the V-neck back up his thigh.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, his voice breathy.

"We should get rid of it before I cannot stop myself," Peter mused, pressing a soft bite to Stiles' neck, making the boy moan.

"What - what if I want it?" Stiles asked.

"You want me to lose control?" Peter asked, surprise in his voice, even as he pressed his smirk into Stiles' flesh.

"I -"

"You need to tell me sweetheart," Peter said when Stiles paused.

"I want you to do what you want to me," Stiles said softly. "I - you're amazing but -"

"You want more," Peter finished, smelling Stiles' relief. "I'll tell you what, I'm going to go and get something," Peter said quietly. "When I come back, I want you on your front, your head on the mattress and your pretty ass in the air. Can you do that for me?"

Stiles nodded.

"Words," Peter reminded him firmly.

"Yes Daddy," Stiles corrected.

"Good boy," Peter whispered, pressing a kiss to Stiles' cheek before pulling himself away from the boy and leaving the bed. He didn't need to collect anything in particular, but more water and perhaps something that Stiles could eat afterwards would be good. It gave the boy chance to think over what he wanted, if he decided to follow Peter's instructions, then he would get the _more_  he wanted.

Peter took his time, making a conscious effort to keep his attention on Stiles' heartrate. It had sped up, mainly due to the boy scrambling to do as requested. Peter heard Stiles' movement still, he assumed that Stiles had taken the position and he held back his urge to head back. The longer Stiles stayed waiting, the steadier his heart beat. It was still fast, compared to the normal rate, no doubt Stiles was thinking about what may happen.

Stiles closed his eyes, his cheek pressed against the pillow he had pulled to rest his head on. He pulled the shirt down over his ass the best he could when he was so clearly presenting. The thought of being so exposed, even to Peter's eyes, was a lot to handle. It made him want to move, he knew that Peter would get an eyeful of his body when he came back. Stiles could feel the air caress his legs, he didn't know exactly how much of him was covered from view.

He heard a cupboard door shut, making his breathing hitch for a second. What was Peter doing? It did nothing to settle him when he could hear the steady footsteps that announced Peter's return. Still, Stiles refused to move. Even as more time passed, Peter had stopped moving, or he had stopped letting Stiles hear his movements.

Peter bit back the groan as he watched Stiles wriggled his ass in the air, the hem of the top barely covered his buttocks, the faint pink still clinging to his skin from earlier. Silently, Peter pressed forward, thanking Stiles' forethought to stay close to the edge of the bed. Stiles took a sharp intake of breath when Peter's fingers ran up his thigh.

"If you want me to stop, just say -"

"No!" Stiles said quickly. "We have the safeword for a reason!" he protested.

"You aren't anywhere near ready to pretend like that," Peter said firmly. "We'll stick with no means no, understood?"

"Fine," Stiles huffed.

"Attitude," Peter said as he let his hand connect with Stiles' ass, over the clothing. He smirked when Stiles let out a soft noise. "Now, again, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good boy," Peter purred, enjoying Stiles' wriggle as he spoke. "I do like how you covered yourself up again," Peter mused, placing a hand on the back of Stiles' thighs and slowly drawing them upwards. "I love to take my time taking apart a person."

"I - I think you have a hidden meaning there," Stiles gasped, he felt the cool air brush his warm behind.

Peter framed Stiles' ass, taking his time to squeeze and massage the warm cheeks before parting them. He could hear Stiles whine into the pillow.

Peter tutted, leaning forward and running his tongue over the boy's hole in order to get a loud moan from Stiles, out of both; shock and enjoyment.

"I want to hear you baby," Peter rumbled before pressing his mouth back against Stiles' asshole.

It was _different_ , Stiles could feel Peter’s breath through his partly parted lips, and he could feel the heat of the man’s mouth. Stiles let out a low keen as he pushed back against Peter. Peter had breached his hole with his tongue, the feeling different from anything else he had experienced. He could feel Peter move his tongue, he could feel the shallow breaths that were pulled in so close to his skin.

Stiles’ gasps turned into loud wanton moans as Peter moved one of his hands. Peter had managed to uncap the bottle of lubricant he had collected and coated a finger before pressing that against Stiles, working it in alongside his tongue. It didn't take long before his finger was accepted in, sliding easily as Stiles rocked backwards to follow the feeling of Peter.

“You – _fuck_ –” Stiles gasped. “Your – _oh god!_ Too much,” he whimpered, still pressing back against Peter’s mouth as his hand pulled at the sheets on the bed. Stiles couldn't fully hear anything beyond his own noises, but he thought he could hear Peter making his own noises to meet Stiles' moans and groans.

When Peter moved his head back, it caused Stiles to whimper loudly at the loss. Ignoring it the best he could, with a smile, Peter took time watching his _now_ two fingers work in and out of Stiles’ ass.

“Mor – more,” Stiles gasped, feeling slightly more in control now that Peter had stopped.

“You sure?” Peter asked, his own voice husky as he poured a bit more lube over the boy's hole as he prepared himself to push a third finger in with the other two, wanting to see just how Stiles reacted.

“Yes,” Stiles ground out, pushing himself back to meet Peter’s fingers. " _Please_!"

"That's a good boy," Peter praised, pushing his third finger in.

Stiles groaned, his eyes closing again as Peter's fingers stretched him. He arched his back, giving the man more access.

"You're taking it so well," Peter cooed, sending a shiver through the boy. "You're taking me so well baby," Peter cooed again, he curled his fingers, letting them brush against that one spot.

Stiles whimpered, his hips bucking as his body tumbled.

“Tell me,” Peter spoke breathlessly, his fingers continuously brushing against Stiles’ prostate with each stroke, “do you think you could you cum like this? Just from my fingers?”

Stiles let out a keen in response, his own hands gripping the blankets even more as he pushed back into Peter’s fingers.

“I – this –” Stiles managed to push out alongside his moans. “I’ve got – _fuck_ – _please_!”

“You’ve got what baby?” Peter let out a soft chuckle, doing nothing to help Stiles’ attempt at speech. “Your own fingers?” he asked, voice quiet as he pressed more pressure against Stiles’ prostate. “Have you fucked yourself like this?”

Stiles let out a loud moan, which turned to a protesting whimper when Peter withdrew his hand from him.

“Hush now,” Peter said half-heartedly. “I want to know if you’ve fucked your pretty ass with your fingers.”

Stiles trembled at Peter’s words. Peter pulled Stiles upright until he was kneeling with his back close to Peter’s chest. Gathering the fabric of the V-neck, Peter slowly inched the clothing over Stiles’ head.

“I have,” Stiles whispered, having gotten his breath back. “I’ve used…”

Stiles trailed off, Peter had thrown the top over to a corner of the room before moving his hands back onto Stiles and running them over the boy’s chest. He let his thumbs brush over Stiles’ nipples, managing to coax another soft noise of pleasure from him.

“You still want this?” Peter whispered into his ear. He nipped the lobe gently as Stiles nodded. “On your back baby.”

Peter stepped back from Stiles, watching in amusement when the boy almost fell forward before scrambling around. He waited until Stiles was mostly laid before he pulled his own shirt off. If Peter had smirked at the spike in Stiles’ lust, then neither of them would say anything. Peter heard Stiles’ breath hitch when he began undoing his jeans, letting them fall with little additional effort.

“ _Peter_ ,” Stiles sounded needy enough that Peter forgot about his own plan to tease Stiles further.

“I’m here baby,” he muttered as he climbed onto the bed. He tugged on Stiles’ thigh, pulling the boy closer. The small squawk that the movement caused made Peter groan quietly as he covered Stiles’ mouth with his own and took a second to steal another kiss from the worked-up male.

“Please – Peter,” Stiles groaned once his lips were free and Peter had leant backwards.

Peter returned with the still-open bottle of lubricant and he took a moment to pour some on his palm before spreading it over his cock in slow strokes that made Stiles whimper as he watched. He pressed forward, slowly easing himself into Stiles.

Peter moved to kiss Stiles once more, feeling how he had tensed at the action. It wasn’t until he had fully pressed himself in that they both gasped. Stiles let out a long grunt as Peter moved his hips teasingly slow.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles heard Peter growl, the sound running straight through his body and adding to the pool of warmth in his stomach. “You are so fucking _tight_.” Peter let out another low noise in the back of his throat as Stiles’ jerked beneath him.

“M – More,” Stiles gasped out.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Peter began to thrust at a more pleasurable pace for the both of them. Whilst doing do, he used his hands to manoeuvre Stiles slightly until he was hitting the boy’s prostate again. He knew when he hit it due to Stiles completely stilling for a second before the shiver of pleasure overtook his body. Even the moans that Stiles had been making became more pronounced, a hand wrapped into Peter’s hair and the other holding onto the man’s arm.

Peter leant forward, his mouth on Stiles’ neck when the boy began to move back to meet his thrusts. He kept his teeth blunt as he bit the skin, growling happily at Stiles’ reaction to the small pain. He knew that Stiles was getting close, the boy would have happily chased his release ages ago.

Taking pity, Peter pushed himself upwards slightly, letting himself capture Stiles’ mouth with his once again as he wrapped a hand around Stiles’ leaking cock. Stiles was beyond the point of returning the kiss, he was mere letting Peter take what he wanted as he gasped, moaned and whimpered in response.

Peter’s hips stuttered in their thrusts as Stiles began to tense and clench around him. Peter moved his fist faster around Stiles’ cock, moving his hips in time as he let Stiles chase his orgasm.

Peter knew exactly when it hit. Stiles’ heart stammered and his body tensed more so. Peter felt the boy’s cock twitch before he was spilling over him. Seeing Stiles laid beneath him, eyes closed, mouth open as he gasped for breath sent Peter into overdrive. His thrusts turned fast, taking what he needed from Stiles’ complying body.

Peter buried himself deep within Stiles, letting his cock twitch as he cums with a deep groan leaving his throat. He joins Stiles in his gasps for breath as he slowly pulls himself from the warmth and comfort of Stiles before rearranging the two of them. He knew that he should make an effort to clean up, it would do neither of them any good to let the mess they made dry.

Peter couldn’t will himself to move as Stiles pawed at him before pressing his body close and curling into his warmth.

“We need to move,” Peter said gently, smiling at Stiles’ whine. He rolled his eyes at the boy’s attempt to hold him still by tightening his hold on him. Peter decided to give him another few minutes before making his move, after all, it wasn’t a hindrance to let the boy cling to him after what just happened.


	15. Just A Shot

Stiles' back hit the wall with such a force that it took his breath away. He had managed to get through the day of school once again, spending his time between Lydia and Malia in an attempt to avoid the rest of the pack. Malia had made a comment on how he smelt happier and satisfied, which had caused a blush and Lydia to raise her eyebrow. In all, the school day was not as difficult as the previous one had been.

Stiles had returned home to an empty house and a message that his dad would be working late yet again, which had caused a dip in Stiles' mood, but he had refused to let it win. Instead, he had decided to do a grocery run so that there would be _something_  in for when he dad was home, even if Stiles wasn't around.

This was how Stiles found himself pushed against the wall, a snarl from behind his attacker.

"What are you thinking?" Scott snapped, drawing Stiles' attention to him. He was stood behind Theo, the boy grinning as he held Stiles still against the wall much to gladly. "What are you two planning?"

Even knowing it was useless, Stiles found himself struggling against Theo's hold. His struggled ceased when Theo's grip tightened and Stiles could feel the tell-tale picks of claws poking against his skin through his clothes.

"Who are you?" Scott hissed, his eyes flashing red. "And what are you planning with Peter?"

"You - _Fuck you_!" Stiles hissed right back, biting back the groan as Theo's claws sunk into his flesh. "You _stole_  from me! I did _nothing_!"

"Because we're really going to believe you?" Theo smirked, his eyes sparkling with his amusement before he adopted a worried look. "I told you that the possession left something evil in him," he said to Scott.

Stiles looked from Theo to Scott in disbelief, only spluttering when Scott seemed to agree with Theo's words.

"You can't seriously believe him?" Stiles asked, his voice high in disbelief.

"You're not yourself Stiles..." Scott said slowly.

"Don't waste your time," Theo said, sending another smirk to Stiles. "He will only try to make you believe he is himself when he clearly isn't. Would _Stiles_  really have sex with _Peter_?" Theo sneered.

"What does that mean?" Stiles hissed.

"Well," Theo said, his tone dripping with faux innocent. "From everything I've heard, the _real_  Stiles wouldn't even think about being alone with him. Now, _you_ , you smell so strongly of him, the two of you clearly fucked. That isn't _our_ Stiles."

"Fuck you!" Stiles hissed again, pushing against Theo's hold. "I am _not_  yours! Peter has not accused me of being possessed!"

"Stiles..."

"Don't waste your breath, Scott," Theo snapped. "We've got enough proof that he's possessed, we should just get rid of him -"

"No!" Scott interrupted. "We need to get him back."

"We can't just let him go," Theo drawled. "Who knows who he'll kill next."

"I haven't -" the protest was lost when Theo pulled him forward and threw him against the wall again. The groan left him, and he couldn't stop his coughing fit.

"We can watch him," Scott pointed out. "We can make sure he doesn't kill anyone and then we can talk to Deaton and find out how to get rid of it."

"Scott," Stiles was quickly losing the adrenaline that flooded him. He sent his friend a pleading look. He met his friend's hard gaze.

"Stay away from Peter," Scott said firmly, turning on his heel and walking away.

Theo grinned at Stiles, making Stiles wonder if the breaking of his heart was as audible as he thought it was.

"Go and cry to him," Theo whispered once Scott had moved further away. "He cannot win against us all, once he's gone... you're next. See you soon," Theo drawled, letting his claws dig further into Stiles before releasing him.

Stiles stayed with his back pressed against the wall, waiting until he was sure that Theo was out of sight. He could feel himself shaking. He felt the pain radiating from where Theo had gripped his arms. Stiles didn't know how long he stood there, his back against the wall as he shook.

"Stiles!" The voice didn't do much to pull Stiles from his heavy breathing, nor did it settle the chaos in his mind.

"Come on kid," the gruff voice grunted, gentle hands pulling him from the wall.

Stiles scrambled back on instinct, his body still fighting against the hold that could have been Theo. Strong arms wrapped around him and held him against something warm, it took a while, but soon the warmth of the body and the tight hold helped Stiles come back to his own mind. His panic dimmed as the pain in his arms began to burn from the pain.

"Just breathe," was said into his ear as his body sunk into the hold. 

"Leave him," another voice piped up, "deal with them and I'll calm him down."

As much as Stiles struggled originally, when the arms released him, he scrambled to hold onto _anything_  of the other person, preferring the illusion of safety than being alone.

"It's ok baby. I've got you," the second voice said, pulling him away and embracing him tightly. One hand went to his hair and played with it as he continued to make soothing noises.

Peter guided Stiles' face until it was pressed against the man's neck, keeping him from the onlooking eyes and he continued to shake. He glanced over to Chris, seeing the man's determined steps, hand on his gun as he weaved through the small crowd that had arrived. 

Chris noticed that no one had even looked his way as Peter had gather Stiles against him. It made his whole job easier. He followed the path that he had seen the boy who had held Stiles still, knowing that someone who held such arrogance would likely feel the need to stay behind and watch the outcome. Granted, it was a hunch that Chris followed. The boy would have either ran or he would be within hearing range if he were one of the wolves.

What Chris didn't expect, was Scott to be frowning at the boy they had seen holding Stiles in place. Neither of them were talking and Chris had the feeling that he had not just walked into an argument for the teen's behalf.

Chris grit his teeth, pulling out his gun and steadying his aim towards the boy that had caused Stiles' panic. Whilst Chris did have the urge to shoot Scott, there was no _guarantee_ that he had done anything.

"Move and I shoot," Chris said, knowing that they both would hear him despite the distance.

"Mr. Argent," Scott said quietly, ducking his head as if he had been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"I should tell the Sheriff that you stole from his house," Chris said, directed more to Scott as he continued to level the other boy with a hard stare. "I'm sure he would be really interested in your reasoning. Stealing is a crime kid, or did you forget that when you cleaned out your so-called best friends house?" Chris knew he was talking in a condescending tone but he hoped that it was at least getting part of the point across.

"We had to!" Scott whined.

"He's not innocent," Theo added in a drawl.

"From what I can see, you hurt an innocent," Chris pointed out. "Stiles did nothing and yet you left him injured after roughing him up. I could kill you just for that," he said firmly.

"Just _who_  do you think you are?" Theo sneered.

"Theo," Scott hissed, placing a hand on the other teen's shoulder. "He's a hunter."

Chris heard the scoff that the kid - _Theo_  - made, it made him itch to put a bullet in him. 

"You are getting on my last nerve," Chris grunted. "The truth Scott," Chris ordered. "Why is Stiles a threat?"

"He - he wanted to kill someone -"

"Did he?" Chris interrupted. "Did Stiles kill them?"

"No, but -"

"No, we are being truthful and not making excuses," Chris snapped, turning his gun onto Scott. "So, Stiles suggested stopping a threat, that is enough to demonise him?"

"We didn't -"

"Scott!" Theo hissed. "Stiles let something dark in him!" the boy said to Chris. "If you need to shoot anyone, shoot him because he's only going to stab you in the back. I bet you're just waiting for your own turn on the monst -"

Theo's sneered words were cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Chris stood indifferent as the boy staggered backwards, quickly supported by Scott.

"I suggest you stay away from Stiles from now on," Chris said firmly. "His things will be collected and returned to him and if anything goes missing without his knowledge then I will aim somewhere else. If he is hurt by a member of your pack, you will be the target. Do you understand Alpha?" Chris asked, his voice strong and powerful. He waited until Scott nodded jerkily before taking one of the spare bullets from his pockets and throwing it in their direction before making his way back to Peter, thankful that people hadn't come running at the sound.


	16. Just A Little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wasn't planning this one today but with all the travelling I did and the fact I am in such a bad mood for writing, this one is here today! Plus, it kinda fits my mood at the moment. So, here you go!  
> Oh! I also added a few tags, just so you know

"Daddy," Stiles whimpered against Peter's neck, making the man tighten his hold momentarily before loosening it.

"That's it baby," Peter said quietly against Stiles' hair, his hand rubbing soothing patterns on the boy's neck. "I've got you and they aren't going to hurt you again. I promise."

Stiles shook his head as much as he could, his eyes filling with tears on their own accord.

Peter met Chris' eyes when the man returned. He did a quick scan of the man, not seeing any injuries. He moved one arm from around Stiles and pulled his keys from his pocket before tossing them over.

"Head to my apartment, we shouldn't be too far behind," Peter suggested, knowing that Stiles would have driven himself this far from his home.

"He ok?" Chris asked, waiting for Peter's glare before turning and heading to his own car. Briefly, it did pass his thoughts how easily it was was accept the wolf's prompts and follow what he suggested. Perhaps it did mean that something had changed within the older Hale.

"Do you have your car keys baby?" Peter asked gently, smiling sadly when Stiles nodded his agreement. "Ok, I'm going to move us over to that thing you call a jeep, then we are going to take a ride back to my apartment and then we can cuddle more. That sound good sweetheart?"

"Daddy," Stiles whimpered again as he shook his head, his hands fisting into Peter's shirt.

Peter frowned at the action, growing more concerned about Stiles as it went on. This was the closest he had seen the boy to being non-verbal and the cause of it wasn't ideal. Peter could even smell the boy's blood, which was another concern but the quantity did not seem to be too alarming, so that could wait until later.

Peter was glad that the two had remained standing, he doubted how much Stiles would have been able to stand again if he had sat. Plus he didn't want to potentially embarrass the boy by carrying him with the amount of eyes that were still watching them. No, it wasn't an issue with them stood, it just took a lot of prompting on Peter's part to coax Stiles into moving.

It wasn't difficult to find Stiles' jeep, nor to pull the keys from the boy's front pocket. Getting Stiles to settle enough to release him was a different story. Peter had tried to talk to Stiles enough to calm him into giving him a few moments, but every move to close the passenger door resulted in a huge increase of anxiety that almost caused Stiles to break into tears once again.

"Stiles," Peter had finally snapped, his wolf growling as he spoke. "Enough."

It broke Peter's heart how Stiles had stilled instantly and seemed to sink further into himself and the seat. The boy didn't fight or argue in the soft whines he had used when Peter fastened his seatbelt before closing the door. He walked to the driver's side fast, taking a breath before opening the door and sliding it. Peter could hear Stiles' stifled sobs through the boy's hand as he started the car.

The ride seemed to take triple the amount of time that it normally did as Stiles continued to sniffle in the seat, shrinking back whenever Peter reached over to offer some comfort through touch. Peter had never been more thankful to reach his apartment, quickly shutting off the jeep and climbing out.

As soon as the door was open and the seatbelt was undone, Stiles began to shake again, causing Peter to berate himself slightly for what he did.

"It's ok baby," he whispered, not reaching over since Stiles hadn't responded well to that earlier. "We're back now. We just had to sit nicely for the car ride, remember? I told you we were going to take a ride before we could cuddle more. We're here now," Peter explained, easily falling back into his caring persona that he hadn't used completely since before the fire happened. "Do you think you can be a good boy and come out of the car? I can help you if you need -"

Peter had been unable to finish speaking before Stiles had pretty much launched himself at Peter, clinging to him tightly once again. His hands curled into fists around his shirt and his head buried back into Peter's neck as he shook.

"'m s'rry d'ddy," Peter heard the slurred words, confirming his earlier suspicion that Stiles had fallen further than either of them thought possible.

"It's ok baby," Peter promised, lifting Stiles into his arms and locking up the jeep before heading into the apartment. 

"He's not ok," Chris observed when Peter had entered the door, clearly having waited for them to arrive.

"Far from it," Peter sighed. "I don't know why, but he's regressed. I probably made it worse when I snapped at him."

"You -"

"He wasn't letting go of me and I needed to drive," Peter explained with a wave as he sat on the couch and rearranged Stiles so he was curled against him.

"He looks so young," Chris said quietly. Peter ignored the words, not sure if the hunter had intended to speak aloud.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Peter could tell as soon as Stiles began to come back to himself, his heart rate had sped up and his scent changed with confusion and a hint of fear. Still, Peter didn't say anything and he continued to hold Stiles as the boy worked over his thoughts, no doubt trying to piece together what he remembered.

Peter glanced at the clock, it had been two and a half hours since they had returned. An hour had passed since Chris had left with the order to let him know when Stiles was ok since he had to check on his own place of residence and rearrange the meeting they had with Lydia before it got too late. Peter and Chris had spent that first hour discussing their newly changed strategy since they had been unable to collect Stiles' belongings before they had stumbled past the scene. That extra half an hour involved Chris sending concerned looks to the bundled boy in Peter's arms as they listened to some ridiculous reality TV show before the man had left. The last hour had found Peter more focused on Stiles than anything else, listening to the boy's breath, his heart and the sniffles that he made every so often.

"Daddy?" Stiles' voice was quiet, hesitant as he glanced up at Peter.

"Hi baby boy," Peter greeted, "Glad to see you back."

"What happened?" the rough tone was a testament to all the tears that had been shed.

"How are you feeling first?" Peter asked gently.

"'m tired," Stiles admitted.

Pressing a soft kiss to his temple, Peter leant forward and grabbed the bottle of water he had instructed Chris to collect before he left. He uncapped it and gave it to Stiles, who took a drink readily.

"How much can you remember?" Peter asked when Stiles gave him the bottle back.

"Th - Theo and Scott... then you were talking and everything went weird," Stiles frowned.

"For the past four hours you've been non-verbal beyond saying 'Daddy'," Peter said quietly, letting Stiles wriggle himself closer. "I thought you had regressed somewhat, but after an hour of not talking and holding onto me as if the world would end, I'm not too sure."

"Regressed... like - like a little would?" Stiles asked, his frown audible.

"It wouldn't have been a bad thing if you did," Peter soothed. "You went through a lot of stress and had a rather bad panic attack. I was more concerned about you being unreasonable to the point of snapping at you to let me drive you here," he explained.

"You growled," Stiles said, seeming to recall that fact.

"I did," Peter agreed, his hand rubbing the back of Stiles' neck again. "You wouldn't listen to me so I did what I would do with the other pups. It seemed to make things worse though," he pointed out. "You spent the car ride in tears and not letting yourself calm down."

"I - I thought you were angry with me," Stiles whispered, the shame rolling off of him as he spoke.

"Oh darling," Peter sighed, pulling Stiles closer. "I was frustrated," he said. "Not angry, I would never let myself be angry at you," he promised. "My biggest concern was getting you out of public."

"Thank you," Stiles said, complete honesty in his voice. "I'm sorry you had to deal with me," he added sadly, knowing that Peter had plans for today, which was why he hadn't arrived straight after school.

"No need to apologise, it was Chris who noticed you darling," Peter said gently. "We both dropped our plans when we realised what was happening. We could never just leave you."

"Thank you," Stiles whispered.

Peter buried his face into Stiles' hair, he knew that he should really talk to Stiles about what happens if this shift occurs again, but he didn't want to force too much on the boy. He wanted Stiles to have at least some time to relax before having to deal with anything he might not enjoy, and Peter could tell that he wouldn't enjoy the talk of possibly having a younger mindset too well.


	17. Resurfacing To Pasta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I've been obsessed with this story. I've done so much for it that the others have been left behind a bit so here ya go! There might be a few days of purely this story because I have a problem.

Stiles sat on the floor once again, much like he had the first time he had been in Peter's apartment alone. The difference between then and now was the fact that Stiles knew that Peter was still in the building.

Stiles still didn't feel like he had his full energy, so he had opted to stay back as Peter went to cook something for them to eat. Stiles had just slipped onto the floor and pulled the adult colouring book towards him. He had already embarrassed himself several times today, so why not go for full embarrassment and give in to the urge to colour and let his thoughts drift away with the repetitive motions.

Peter had taken him aside earlier, carefully peeling off his t-shirt in order to see just how much damage Theo had done to Stiles' arms. He had forced back the growl that he wanted to release at the sight of the dried blood that had soaked into the top and made it difficult to take off without hurting the boy further. Other than the clear claw marks that had gone too deep for Peter's liking, it did not seem overly bad. Even so, Peter had taken his time to properly clean the injuries, taking extra care on the ones that had begun to bleed once again when the top had come off. All the while, Peter had been drawing whatever pain he could to stop Stiles feeling any additional pain that might arise from making sure the wounds were clean. 

That had drawn Stiles more into _himself_ , even though he still hadn't felt fully 'adult', which he had refused to admit beyond his jumbled thoughts. Feeling too ashamed to even acknowledge that he had seemed to regress, let alone _still_ not feeling fully himself.

The picture Stiles was currently colouring showed two owls sat on a tree branch, overlooking a town, everything covered in smaller designs that Stiles felt compelled to shade in different colours. The repetitive motions and simplicity of the action lulled Stiles into a more relaxed state, his anxiety over everything fading as he listened to the faint cluttering of Peter and the quiet scratching of the pencils.

Stiles was unaware of just how much time had flown when Peter had returned. He had not even noticed Peter's presence until the man had sat nearby and nudged him.

"Food," Peter prompted when Stiles had looked up in confusion, letting the pencil drop from his fingers.

"What is it?" Stiles asked climbing up onto the couch, next to Peter.

"Chicken and chorizo lasagne," Peter said as he put the plate he prepared for Stiles onto his lap. "The picture looks good," he pointed out.

Stiles looked down at the coffee table, he hadn't gotten too far in the picture, having only coloured the leaves and the tree trunk before Peter had come back. He blushed at the thought of being caught doing something so childish. He sunk back as Peter placed a hand on the back of his neck, the touch grounding him and distracting him from his embarrassment. He was thankful when Peter didn't say anything, just waiting until the embarrassment left before returning his attention to eating.

The food was surprisingly good, tasting better than Stiles thought possible. He saw Peter's amused smile when Stiles had groaned as the flavour hit his tongue.

"Slow down," Peter chastised lightly, taking his own time to eat.

Stiles smiled down at his food, his stomach fluttering at Peter's tone.

"Eat before getting too lost in your thoughts," Peter said.

"Ok," Stiles muttered, blushing more at the fact Peter had noticed the change in his thoughts. Granted, Peter's comment had done very little to aid Stiles' innocent mind. Rather, he was reminded of a story he had read. Grinning even more, Stiles thanked Peter mentally for not having prepared pasta because he wouldn't be able to hide _that_ amusement -

"Now, dear boy, I told you to eat first. So, just what are you thinking about now?" Peter asked, his voice smooth.

"I - it was just a story," Stiles muttered, not wanting to explain what he had read but he was a _curious_  teen.

"Hmm," Peter hummed, "tell me what happened," he prompted.

"There was pasta," Stiles said, his face brightening as he knew that Peter could smell his conflicted feelings. Deciding to get over the issue, he quickly rushed, "The story involved sex and pasta."

"You were reading erotica?" Peter asked just before taking a bite, his eyebrow raised.

"Not on -" Stiles cut himself off, knowing he would be lying before he even finished, it was an automatic response. He bit his lip at the recollection of the last time he had lied to Peter, and he didn't want to do _that_ again. "It was a friend's story," he said. He felt Peter's gaze.

"What happened with the _sex and pasta_?" Peter asked curiously, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

"Well... most of them were a dom and sub thing," Stiles explained, his eyes back on his plate. He waited for Peter’s interruption but it didn’t come. "They - the submissive was being punished or they were being pushy and because of that they were getting fingered while the other one - the dominant, was eating pasta, not paying attention."

"Ignoring a little brat does tend to work," Peter hummed again around another bite. "I'll keep in mind that you seem excited by the thought of it."

"N - no, I didn't -"

"Stiles," Peter warned.

"I'm sorry," Stiles muttered, focusing back on his food.

Peter almost said that no harm was done, it _had_ given him something to think about. He didn’t think Stiles would handle being ignored too well just yet, but perhaps in time. The two sat in silence as they ate, Stiles letting his foot wriggle and tap against the floor.

“I let Christopher know that you were feeling better,” Peter said casually, “he would like to talk with you when you feel up to it. He didn’t say what it was about but I can take a guess.”

Stiles took his time chewing the mouthful he had. Not wanting to tempt fate with choking him on the food. Stiles could take a guess at what the hunter wanted, especially since Peter _had_ said Chris had been around… when Stiles was non-verbal beyond the word ‘daddy’. He could feel himself flush at the thought of the other man knowing. It was one thing for _Peter_ to know. Sure, Chris _had_ overheard him the previous day, Stiles was still embarrassed about that run-in, and now Chris might have seen him acting more like a child. It was clear what he wanted to talk about and that fact made Stiles’ stomach sit heavy.

“None of that,” Peter said lightly. “He didn't judge you for anything, and if on the unlikely chance he makes you feel uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll make him regret it.”

“By killing him?” Stiles asked, a smile pulling at his mouth as he thought back to what Peter said before he had to face school the first time.

“Death would be too nice for anyone who hurts you,” Peter mused.

Stiles’ grin grew, unable to hold it back at Peter's words. They ignited such a warm feeling in his chest, one that bubbled under the knowledge that Peter cared enough to want people that hurt him to _suffer_. Despite knowing that he shouldn’t be flattered because of that, since Peter probably _would_ do what he could to make them suffer, it did make him want to climb onto Peter’s lap and just stay in the man’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next is the dreaded chat about Stiles having a little mind space.  
> Then it's a Chris chat because I love him and I have such adorable plans.  
> Also I couldn't help but mention the pasta stories. ^_^


	18. Accept Yourself

“Just say what you want to say,” Stiles snapped, having grown annoyed with Peter’s side-glances. He had been able to find and commandeer once of Peter’s secretive books that told the secrets of the supernatural world, but even that had not been enough to distract him from Peter.

“We need to talk,” Peter said.

“It’s fine, just forget today happened,” Stiles muttered,  _knowing_  that it would have been this. He just wanted to ignore the whole thing. It didn’t matter. Sure, it was an inconvenience but he would have been  _fine_  if they didn’t show up.

So, Stiles knew that he was taking the whole thing badly. He felt the strangeness in his body when he was able to think clearly. He felt how sluggish everything was, how much effort the simplest of things took to complete. Even  _turning the page_  took so much energy that Stiles had considered giving up his attempt at reading.

“We need to talk about it,” Peter pointed out, not even giving Stiles the illusion that he would let the topic go. “As much as you might want to ignore it, it might happen again.”

“No,” Stiles said firmly. He closed the book with a snap as he glared at Peter. “It won’t.”

“It might,” Peter said calmly, only making Stiles’ anger slightly stronger at the insinuation.

“It won’t,” Stiles protested.

“Stiles,” Peter sighed.

The disappointed tone made Stiles’ stomach flip, he looked down. It was bad enough to hear it, he didn’t want to see the look on Peter’s face at the same time.

“I know that you don’t feel comfortable with the thought of being a little,” Peter said calmly, “we still need to talk about the possibility.”

“It isn’t a possibility,” Stiles muttered. He sunk into himself when he heard Peter’s sigh.

“I have seen a people in a little headspace,” Peter pointed out, watching Stiles closely. “I’ve also seen people that are uncomfortable with possible kinks that they might have. We  _will_  talk about this before it gets too out of hand. I said at the start that communication was important. Now, we either continue like this or we can make it easier without you trying to pull away,” Peter said firmly.

At Peter’s words, the sternness in his tone and the fact he hadn’t let the topic drop, all hit something inside of Stiles. The crumpled boy almost jumped at Peter in an attempt to get some comfort.

“I’m sorry,” he whined, clinging to Peter and letting the warmth of him run over his body when Peter’s arms came around to hold him.

“It’s ok baby,” Peter soothed, “I know it isn’t easy.”

Peter rubbed Stiles’ back, knowing just how much he needed it. He would have kept holding him earlier if the boy hadn’t pulled away and hid with the excuse of ‘finding something to read’. Peter knew that it wouldn’t be easy for Stiles to resurface after such an intense mind state, even if he wasn’t completely aware of what had happened.

“I know a lot of people that have struggled to accept their kinks,” Peter said gently. “It’s normally when they think their kink goes against what they  _should_  be doing. So, a lot of women that hated themselves for being submissive since they were out-spoken feminists and they felt like they were going against what they were preaching,” Peter continued, letting himself talk as Stiles took what he needed from his touch.

“But that’s silly,” Stiles frowned against his neck. Peter gave the empty room a smile as Stiles’ words were muffled into his neck.

“I know baby,” Peter nodded, trying to keep his voice calm as he tried to keep going and say what he  _wanted_  to say. “They needed time to accept that their kink didn’t make them less of a feminist, nor did it mean that they would bend and follow every order given to them. Trust is a huge aspect and, frankly, accepting kinks like that make a person stronger than if they refuse to admit them.”

Peter felt Stiles’ shudder, and he bit his tongue from commenting on how strong Stiles  _was_  without even mentioning any kinks he had.

“Being a  _little_  is a state of mind,” Peter continued, unsure if Stiles had actually looked into it after expressing his confusion before they had begun this. “It doesn’t mean anything more than you want it to.  It is like any other form of submission, you've got to let yourself go and feel what you want to feel. It’s purely a personal thing, you don’t need to announce it to the world, no one but you and whomever you want to share it with need to know. I have my own fantasies that I enjoy,” Peter pointed out. “There are a few that go against what I know is right –”

“Like what?” Stiles asked, almost exhaling the words out with how softly spoken they were.

“Some would say you are sweetheart,” Peter whispered, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ hair. “I’ve participated in acts that seemed non-consensual. You have to recall that I am an animal my dear,” Peter purred, smiling at the thrill of arousal that came from Stiles. “However, I am allowed to enjoy the thought of whatever fantasies I have. If I were to act them out, it would be in a consensual and safe way.”

Stiles pulled away from Peter slightly, letting himself lean far enough back so he could see the man. He didn’t comment on how Peter had dodged the question, instead, he met the man’s eyes and nodded.

“So, if it happens again?” Stiles asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Peter offered Stiles a wide smile as he spoke quietly, “if it happens again, what do you want dear?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked before biting his lip.

“I’ve said that this doesn’t have to be anything sexual,” Peter explained, holding Stiles’ eyes. “This is a space for you to explore whatever you want, so if you do regress again, do you think it would be anything sexual?”

“I – I don’t know,” Stiles floundered.

“Ok,” Peter nodded once. “I’ll be completely honest darling, if you were to go into another state like earlier, I wouldn’t ever let it turn sexual. Not while you were like that.”

“Why?” Stiles frowned.

“A few reasons,” Peter said gently. “First, when you resurfaced, you were unaware of what had happened. Second, I don’t believe you were in a state to think clearly enough to consent to anything,” Peter pointed out.

“But we’re together…” Stiles mumbled, looking down, wincing slightly when Peter growled low in his throat.

“I know you know better than that baby boy,” Peter said firmly as he lifted Stiles’ chin. “Consent is something that is not automatically there. You need to be able to think about what  _you_  want. During at point, you can say no,  _that_  is why safeword’s are so important. You know this Stiles.”

Stiles nodded, his head dropping when Peter’s hand moved away. He felt stupid. Of course he knew that. It just – he didn’t know  _why_  he had said that.

“I trust you,” Stiles murmured. That’s what it came down to. Stiles trusted Peter to listen to him. To stop before it got too much. He knew that Peter wouldn’t hurt him.

“I am so happy to hear that,” Peter said. “I have an advantage of knowing when you get too anxious, too afraid. The problem happens when you are in a different mindset. If you are too deep, you aren’t aware of what is happening around you,” Peter pointed out, brushing Stiles’ hair away from his face. “I would rather you be aware of what I do to take you apart and put you back together. That’s the fun of it, watching you get so aroused that you let out those little sounds that you can’t hold back,” Peter whispered, drawing Stiles closer so Peter could bury his face into the boy’s neck. “I would want to hear every gasp I can draw from those gorgeous lips of yours.”

“Don’t,” Stiles breathed, unable to stop the shiver wash over him as the warmth began to pool in his stomach.

Peter pressed one last kiss to Stiles’ neck, almost able to taste how fast his pulse was pounding under the skin. It was no effort to rearrange Stiles on his lap, pulling the boy back against him and letting him open the book again to read as Peter found something on the television to watch.


	19. A Trip Around The Shop

If someone were to ask Stiles how he found himself walking around the shop with Chris Argent trailing behind him pushing a cart, he wouldn’t know where to start. He was sure that Peter had something to do with it. They both must have planned the trickery.

Peter had looked at the time before pretty much ushering Stiles out of his apartment with the instructions to head straight home, after making sure that Stiles’ reflexes weren’t still lowered. The behaviour was strange, but Stiles didn’t question it since he had interrupted his plans for today.

Stiles hadn’t thought too much about why Peter had acted so strange until he arrived home. Pulled up outside of his house sat Chris’ car. If Peter hadn’t mentioned that Chris wanted to talk, Stiles would be more concerned about coming out of this meeting alive.

“Get in,” Chris had said, not waiting for Stiles to say the first word.

“Why?” Stiles ignored Chris’ eye roll at the suspicious tone.

“You wanted to get things from the shop I assume,” Chris drawled. “I’ll just be around to make sure no one  _touches_  you.”

The stressed word had caused a pink tint to cross Stiles’ face, which Chris had smirked at.

“In you get,” he said again, disappearing back into the driver’s seat and waiting for Stiles to follow in the passenger seat.

The drive went quickly, neither talking as Chris drove and Stiles grew more fidgety. Stiles had felt Chris’ eyes on him when he had started to tap against the dashboard, but the man had said nothing.

So, that was how Stiles found himself in this peculiar position. He had expected Chris to stay in the car, or even lurk around the store himself, not to have his hands gently hit away from the cart and Chris take over in pushing it dutifully along behind Stiles’ lead.

“Do you always fondle your produce?” Chris asked in his amused drawl, startling Stiles into remembering that the man was more than just a cart pushing service.

“It’s how to check them,” Stiles pointed out, ignoring the fact he could feel the heat on his face. He put the still not ripe pineapple in the cart. “Ones that still need to ripen are better in our house,” Stiles explained, feeling the need to explain it.

“Plans for the pineapple?” Chris asked as Stiles moved onto the avocados.

“Grill it, add it to pizza,” Stiles shrugged. It was a secret indulgence his father wouldn’t complain about, he had actually enjoyed pineapple. “There’s lots to do with it and it’s something my dad will actually eat without bribery.”

“You have to bribe him?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the adult in your relationship?”

“Shut up,” Stiles muttered, “he needs to watch his heart ok.”

“It’s nice of you to take such care of him –”

“Stop, ok?” Stiles snapped. “I don’t know what you are trying to psychoanalyse out of me but it has – that isn’t  _why_ …” Stiles trailed off, knowing what he wanted to say but not being able to actually  _say_  it.

“I never said that,” Chris pointed out, his amused tone back in place as Stiles glared. Chris shook his head when Stiles huffed before turning and marching off. It was clear from spending time with Stiles how the boy would easily slip into the lifestyle he seemed to have. Even it was with someone as questionable as  _Peter_.

“That is so cute!” Stiles gushed, drawing Chris’ attention from around the corner.

Nothing could have prepared him for the scene before him. Stiles was turned so he was ready to face Chris when he caught up. In his hands was a  _teddy bear_.

“Look at how cute it is!” Stiles continued to gush. He held the teddy in a very Lion King-like fashion as if Chris would offer his own compliments on it rather than just raising an eyebrow at the boy. He did admit that Stiles did look endearing with his wide smile as he looked up at Chris.

“Bad taste, isn’t it?” Chris asked, trying to hold back his amusement in case it broke whatever happiness Stiles held.

“What? It isn’t like it’s a rabbit,” Stiles pointed out. “Da –  _Peter_  would eat it,” Stiles corrected himself, ignoring how warm he suddenly felt. He realised just where he was, even if the isle was empty, there was still people around that could have overheard him.

“It’s a werewolf,” Chris pointed out, the side of his mouth twitching. He could make out Stiles rubbing the tips of his fingers against the fur.

“It’s adorable,” Stiles said firmly, levelling Chris with a stern look as if daring him to disagree. He did note, thankfully, that Chris hadn’t said anything about the almost  _slip_  he made, even though he knew the hunter had noticed it.

“Stick it in,” Chris said with a shake of his head, having the idea that Stiles would have left it behind even though he clearly wanted it.

“What?” Stiles frowned.

“You like it, so get it,” Chris shrugged.

“No,” Stiles argued, knowing that he was blushing even more. “I am  _not_  getting it.”

“Why?” Chris asked.

“It’s – I’m not a child,” the younger man hissed.

“You announced how much you loved it,” Chris pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean –”

“Stiles,” Chris interrupted, his voice firm. “Add the wolf.”

Stiles bit his lip, looking from Chris to the teddy. He did want it, as annoying as it was. Plus, it was soft. Stiles let himself pet the fur for a second before giving in, he refused to look at Chris as he added it, half concerned about what he would see in the man’s eyes and half ashamed of how childish he was.

Chris kept a closer eye on Stiles, watching as the boy seemed to shut down on himself slightly. He had refused to look at the cart whenever he added another item into it, instead, focusing solely on what he was picking up.

“Why are you making such a big deal about it?” Chris asked.

“I’m not,” Stiles muttered.

“Sure,” Chris drawled, not believing Stiles for a second. He let Stiles keep to himself for the rest of the journey around the shop, he noticed as Stiles began to relax more. The more people that passed them, the less tense he became, almost as if he had expected someone to make a big deal out of the teddy bear that sat in the cart.

Shaking his head at Stiles’ worry, Chris pulled out his car keys, passing them over with the instruction that Stiles wait for him in the car.

“But this is all my stuff,” Stiles frowned.

“Just go,” Chris said, putting more of an order into his voice. Stiles ducked his head, his eyes on the floor as he took the keys from Chris and headed towards the exit at a slow pace.

“I’m shocked he listened,” a lady behind Chris said.

He turned towards her, she was older than him, staring at Stiles’ retreating body. She gave Chris an appraising look.

“That kid has always been trouble, ever since he could talk he had such a mind of his own, never listened to anyone who told him to do something,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how the Sheriff managed.”

Chris could feel the tension in his body as he tried his best not to say something harsh back to this busy body who thought to stick her opinion where it was unwanted.

Stiles sat in Chris’ car, trying his best not to think too much about what had just happened. He still wasn’t sure why the man didn’t want him dead. There was something about Chris that was just controlled and visibly dangerous, and Stiles would be lying if he wasn’t intrigued by that.

If Chris wanted to, he could easily kill Stiles, and they both knew that. After everything that he had done, the man _had_ to have considered it at least once. Stiles knew that he would have, he would have considered making the death as tortuous as he could if they had hurt his family.

So, why? Why hadn’t Chris done _something_? Anything. Why did the man point him out to Peter? He could have drove on without acknowledging his panic. He could have done the same in front of the school. It didn’t make sense for Chris to seem to care, not after what Stiles did.

Stiles jumped when the boot opened, his head spinning as Chris began to unload the bags into the car. Stiles could feel his heart pounding in his chest, he pressed a hand over it, willing it to calm.

“You ok kid?” Chris asked, climbing into the car when he was finally done. He still had one bag in hand as he glanced over to Stiles, who still hand his hand against his chest.

Stiles nodded.                                                    

“Here,” Chris said, putting the bag on Stiles’ lap.

Stiles nodded again, his fingers twitching on the plastic of the bag. He could see the tuff of brown fur inside, but he didn’t feel comfortable enough to take it out. Instead, he kept the bag on his lap, not offering another word to Chris.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that damn adorable teddy!


	20. It Isn't What It Looks Like

“So, I feel like we should talk,” Chris started, earning a wide-eyed look from Stiles. They weren’t far from the kid’s house, but they were close enough that Stiles could avoid the conversation by claiming he had to leave.

“Nothing to talk about,” Stiles said fairly quickly.

“That’s not going to work,” Chris pointed out. “Either we talk or I go straight to Hale, and neither of you would want that.”

“Fine,” Stiles muttered as he sunk into the seat. “Just ask all the stupid things you want to.”

“Stupid?” Chris repeated, amused despite what he wanted to admit. “I’m just looking out for your virtue –”

“No, we aren’t doing that. Can you just show me where you keep the rest of your guns?” Stiles muttered, sinking further into the seat.

“Why?” Chris asked, glancing over. He could see Stiles’ hand barely in the carrier bag, his fingers stroking an ear of the teddy bear.

“So I can shoot myself and not deal with this embarrassment?” Stiles huffed.

“No can do kid,” Chris said with a smirk, focusing back on the road.

“’m not a kid,” Stiles protested lightly.

Chris didn’t reply, only shaking his head somewhat at the childish mumble.

“So, you’re in a relationship with Peter?” Chris went for first.

“I – I guess,” Stiles frowned, looking down at the bag in his lap. “We – why does it matter?”

“I’m just making sure he isn’t taking advantage,” Chris said honestly.

“Why do you care?”

“You’re just a kid –”

“I’m not!” Stiles snapped, finally sitting up straight.

“The age difference is a concern,” Chris pointed out calmly, not rising to the bait. He wanted to keep the conversation controlled, rather than emotional. “If he’s pressuring you, there are optio –”

“He isn’t,” Stiles said firmly.

“If that changes…” Chris said, trailing off as Stiles sent him his own amused look.

“Trust me,” Stiles said firmly. “If that changes, _I_ will be the one to make him regret it.”

“I have everything you might need,” Chris pointed out, his amusement back. The small flash of who Stiles was came through loud and clear, the boy who was unafraid and willing to do whatever he needed to.

“Thanks,” Stiles said with a small smile.

“You seem less concerned about being murdered now,” Chris added, pulling a laugh from Stiles.

“You aren’t that scary when you’re demanding I buy a teddy,” Stiles sniggered. “Plus you have so much embarrassment material that killing me wouldn’t really be worth it.”

“How so?”

Stiles blushed brightly at the question, not quite happy to bring up just everything that Chris had managed to see in the past week.

“You know how,” he settled on as a response as Chris pulled into Stiles’ driveway.

“Need help taking everything in?” Chris asked. He waited until he got Stiles’ timid nod before unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car, leaving Stiles just staring in confused wonder at the empty seat.

Chris just walked around to the back of the car, popping the trunk open, and collecting a handful of bags. It had been a while since he had done anything this domestic with another person.

It didn’t take long before Stiles was next to him, holding the bag with the teddy in and grabbing the last few from the back of the car before heading over to his house. He juggled the bags into one hand, unlocking the door before pausing slightly.

Chris pretended not to notice as Stiles seemed conflicted. It barely took more than a second before he was heading inside, making a noise for Chris to follow.

“So, just so we are clear, you are happy in your… whatever it is with Hale,” Chris said, watching Stiles’ face closely as they both put the carrier bags on the counter. “You are a consenting party in your _games_?”

“Yes, ok?” Stiles groaned, his face flushing again. “Very consenting.”

Chris regarded him closely for a second. The blush on his cheeks, the smile tugging on his lips, Stiles didn’t seem the least bit concerned about what was happening. Hell, Chris knew that Stiles had been active in it.

“Even though today happened? You do know that anything that happens when you are like _that_ –”

“Dude!” Stiles groaned, stepping away from the carrier bags on the side. “I’ve just gone through this with _him_ , he’s not even going to risk it. If I’m like _that_ ,” he spat, “Peter isn’t going to – he’s refused ok? Not when I’m not one hundred percent sane, so don’t worry.”

“At least he’s being responsible,” Chris sighed, as painful as it was to admit. Sure, there was a distinct change in Peter, but to hear that the man was being so – so _respectable_ was hard. “I’m still going to talk to your _Daddy_ ,” he let Stiles know, his tone back to teasing. He may have preened slightly at Stiles’ barely covered shiver.

“You do that,” Stiles said slightly breathlessly. There was something undeniably sexy about _Chris Argent_ saying that. His raspy voice lowered and soft, as if sharing a secret. His eyes twinkling, which let on just how much he knew what he was doing.

“Have you both discussed kinks?”

“OH MY GOD SHUT UP!” Stiles yelled, clasping his hands over his ears as he turned an even deeper shade of red. He glared at the man whilst Chris just laughed, his head thrown back slightly in his amusement. “We are not talking about this!” he said loudly, still not moving his hands.

Chris let Stiles wallow in his horror until he managed to control his own laughter. Then, he stepped forward, taking Stiles’ wrists in each hand and pulling them away from the boy’s head, a pleased hum leaving him when Stiles let him do it.

“Just because he’s older doesn’t mean anything,” Chris told Stiles steadily. “You are allowed to say no, at _any_ point.”

“I know,” Stiles breathed, his eyes locked onto Chris’. For a brief second, Stiles had the image of kissing the man in front of him, feeling his beard against his chin and letting the hunter just hold him still. Stiles knew that Chris would be completely different to Peter, to _anyone_ he had kissed. Although, Chris could surprise him, Peter certainly had. Stiles had never expected the wolf to be as gentle as he was.

“What are you thinking?” Chris asked softly, his eyes scanned Stiles’ pink face.

“About you,” Stiles replied before he could even think about the words. His eyes widened in horror as his mouth dropped open. Yet, Chris’ amused smirk was back in place doing nothing but making Stiles’ stomach heavy.

“Nothing bad I hope,” Chris teased.

Stiles shook his head, stepping back until he was out of Chris’ reach. He didn’t hate the fact that the man let him go, it didn’t make him want to step forward again just to _see_ what Chris would do. No, Stiles had better control than that. He coughed as he tried to believe that he was in control even as he felt so out of control.

“Now, off with ya,” Stiles said, shaking himself lightly. “I need to put all this away and you’re in the way.”

“I am?” Chris asked, that sinful smirk back in place.

“Very much so,” Stiles admitted, no hint of a lie in his tone. Chris just being around was making him think things that he had never considered before.

Chris just nodded his acceptance, letting Stiles usher him back out of the house. Just as Stiles was waving goodbye to the car, he caught his dad’s eyes through the window of the police cruiser that was patiently waiting to park. Freezing slightly with his hand mid-wave, his first thought was ‘ _It isn’t what it looks like!_ ’ but he knew from the thin-pressed lips of his father that he would have to talk about this.


	21. No Dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another extra chapter because I want fluff and this is the quickest way. Not exactly a happy chapter (but then I don't think it was expected that much). Next one is a lot more fluffy, I promise

Stiles stood stiffly, Chris was out of sight now and his father was pulling into the driveway. Stiles did debate on whether it would be worth it to run, he could pretend nothing had happened. He could act like he doesn’t know anything.

Deciding to do just that, Stiles waited until his dad had opened the car door before fleeing back inside. He left the front door open, knowing that his dad wouldn’t be far behind but the groceries needed to be put away.

Stiles moved the bag with the teddy bear in to the side, knowing that he would need to take that upstairs. It was slow going, but Stiles began to unpack the bags, trying not to continuously check for his father’s approach.

“Chris Argent?” his dad questions when he finally came into the kitchen. He had removed his belt, the gun, and the badge. At least he didn’t seem too annoyed to keep his gun on him.

“He’s nice?” Stiles offers back weakly, trying to stay focused on just where he was putting things. He could feel his dad watching him, noting just how strange he was acting. Normally, Stiles wouldn’t be so rigid about where things went, a general placement sure, but not the scrutinised spacing that he was doing.

“Should I be worried?” he heard his father sigh.

“No! Chris - Chris isn’t – why would you be worried?” Stiles asked, a frown on his face as he turned to his dad.

“He’s a lot older than you Stiles,” his dad pointed out, an eyebrow raised. “He had a daughter -”

Stiles’ breath froze, not wanting to inhale or exhale. It seemed too painful, too soon. It was _his fault_ Chris doesn’t still have a daughter.

“- who was older than you.”

“Don’t worry about it dad,” Stiles said, finally regaining the ability to breathe. “He was just making sure I got home ok.”

“And he was in the house why?” John questioned.

“Helping me bring shopping in,” Stiles shrugged, not lying. He closed his eyes and turned back to the shopping when his dad sighed.

“Speaking of shopping, what happened between you and Scott?”

Stiles flinched, john sounded so tired when he spoke.

“Nothing important,” Stiles said automatically.

“Stiles,” another sigh.

“We just –” Stiles cut himself off, rubbing a hand down his face as he kept his back to his dad. “He was being a jerk, ok? It’s fine. How did you even –”

“I got a few calls from citizens that were worried about you,” John said.

“Why?” Stiles frowned, pulling the last of the shopping out of the bag, it was the pineapple.

“They said that there seemed to be a violent interaction between Scott, yourself and another boy,” John spoke calmly, still watching Stiles.

Stiles shrugged, not offering any information. He didn’t _want_ his dad to know.

“Stiles,” John sighed again. “If this is all just a prank –”

“A prank?” Stiles snapped, turning again, staring at his dad in disbelief.

“You and Scott never fight –”

“Never…?” Stiles laughed bitterly. “He’s never stolen from me before –”

“Stiles, I want the truth,” John said firmly.

“This is the truth! You never listen to me!” Stiles cried, more emotion in his voice than he ever intended.

He couldn’t handle this. He grabbed the carrier bag that still held his teddy, not wanting the humiliation of his dad finding it if he left it alone.

“Where are you going?” John snapped.

“To my room,” Stiles huffed, pushing past his dad. “I’m sure you should get back to work after all,” he added snidely.

Stiles had barely closed his bedroom door before he was calling Peter. He just wanted to hear a calming voice. One that didn’t make him want to scream, didn’t make him want to hide in order to avoid an oncoming argument.

Before Peter could answer, Stiles cancelled the call, feeling foolish. He was an adult, _sort of_ , he shouldn’t need to call someone for reassurance. He shouldn’t need a calm voice. He shouldn’t need _Peter’s_ voice. Not the man who had done so much to hurt Stiles, the one who had dragged him into the supernatural world - _ok_ , Stiles knew that wasn’t completely true, it was his own fault for being out, even more so for dragging Scott along with him. It just made Stiles feel all the sillier to be relying so much on someone who shouldn’t _care_ , even though they seemed to.

Stiles felt stupid. He felt pathetic. He wanted so much more than Peter had offered, it wanted it all. He wanted to be able to trust someone enough that he can stop worrying, that he can just let the world pause for a little while. Sure, Peter seemed to care enough. The man was able to keep himself safe, and Stiles if he felt like it, but Stiles couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was some underlying reason behind what Peter was doing.

Or worse, that there wasn’t.

Sooner or later, Peter would grow tired of his company and Stiles would be left alone. He would be left to struggle with the knowledge of how good things could be, how good _Peter_ could be. It hadn’t been long but Stiles knew that he would miss it. He would miss the attention, the fact someone seemed to care enough about _him_.

“Stiles!” he heard his dad call, knocking on his door heavily. “You can’t just run away -”

Stiles spun, opening the door and staring right at his father.

“I’m not the one running from my problems,” Stiles spat. “You _never_ listen to me. You _never_ believe anything I tell you -”

“You lie so much!” John snapped. “How am I meant to believe you?”

Stiles took a step back, the words hitting more than he would like to admit. It was one thing to know it but to hear him say it was a whole other issue. Stiles shook his head, trying to hold back the betrayal that was rising rapidly. He took a breath in, gritting his teeth before turning back around and grabbing the carrier bag he had brought up to his room, along with his school bag.

“Not that you’ll notice but I’m leaving,” Stiles said, aiming for a calm and collected tone when in fact his voice shook.

“You are not leaving,” his dad frowned.

“And you’ll be at home to make sure I’m here, will you?” Stiles asked bitterly. “If you aren’t going to listen, I’m not going to stay and talk to thin air!”

“Stiles!”

Stiles heard his phone buzz, picking it up, he ignored his father’s barked question as he answered the call.

“ _I’m sorry darling, are you ok_?” Peter spoke, his words soothing a small piece of the ache in Stiles’ heart.

“Stiles, we aren’t done -” his dad began, shattering the small bubble Stiles had found himself in.

“Can I stay at yours for a few days?” Stiles asked, his voice hitching as he continued to ignore his father. Stiles could feel his eyes welling as Peter said nothing.

“Stiles! You aren’t going anywhere -”

“ _Do you want me to come and get you_?”

Stiles almost sobbed in relief at Peter’s quiet voice, it wasn’t an acceptance, nor was it a denial.

“I – I’m ok, you don’t need to,” Stiles muttered.

“ _Let me know when you leave_.”

“I’ll be leaving soon,” Stiles said, pressing the end call. “I’m going,” he said to his dad.

“Where?”

“A friend,” Stiles said firmly.

“Scott?” his dad asked.

“No,” Stiles said stiffly.

“Who then?” John frowned.

“Why does it matter?” Stiles snapped, trying to push past his father to leave.

“I need to know where my son is,” John said firmly, a hand on Stiles’ chest to stop him.

“You haven’t cared before,” Stiles grumbled.

“That isn’t true,” John frowned.

“Just save it,” Stiles mumbled, not wanting to hear any of the excuses. He wasn’t in any mindset to deal with them. Right now, he wanted Peter. He wanted to be curled up under blankets and to just stop thinking. He didn’t need his dad. He didn’t need _anyone_ that wouldn’t listen to him.


	22. They Need A Name

Peter was waiting for Stiles when he pulled up. He had the door open by the time Stiles had unbuckled the seatbelt and was gently pulling Stiles against his chest. He didn't say anything, just held Stiles to his chest and let him calm down. He kept his attention on the rapid heartbeat and the uneven breaths, waiting until the sour distressed scent disappeared. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asked once Stiles began to pull away.

“No,” Stiles snapped. Already planning what he’ll do when Peter tells him to go home again. He didn’t want to spend the night in his jeep, but it was a more appealing choice than being back in the house. He wanted space. He needed the space.

“Ok,” Peter said carefully. “Get your things and come inside,” he prompted.

Stiles nodded, pulling completely away from Peter's embrace and leaning back into the jeep to grab the two bags he had. He did pause for a second before taking hold of the carrier bag, if all else failed and Peter still let him stay, he could spend the night cuddling the silly wolf, it isn't as if Peter  _ had _ to know. 

Peter waited until Stiles had locked the jeep up before he held his hand out for either the bags, or Stiles’ spare hand. Stiles reaction was strange as the boy blushed and pulled both bags closer to himself. Unable to help himself, Peter sighed at the action.

“If you want me to leave you can say so,” Stiles grumbled, looking down at the floor.

“Stiles,” Peter said, pulling him back into his arms.

“No, don’t just -” Stiles started to say, struggling in Peter’s embrace.

“Stiles,” Peter said firmly. “I don’t know exactly what happened but that doesn’t mean you can turn into a brat.”

Stiles crumpled, sinking into Peter’s hold.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered.

“It’s ok baby,” Peter replied, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead. “Let’s get you inside, then we can figure out what we’re doing.”

Stiles nodded, letting Peter manoeuvre him into the apartment, his mind once again going back to his plan to spend the night somewhere unnoticeable in his jeep. It wasn’t ideal but it would do.

“What are you thinking?” Peter asked quietly, noticing that the sour scent was back.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles shrugged.

“Darling, anything that makes you this upset matters,” Peter said gently.

“You won’t mind me here, will you?”

“I’ve already told you that you’re welcome here,” Peter pointed out, taking Stiles’ hand and squeezing it slightly. Some of the sourness faded from him, taking away a portion of the tension in his stance. It was easy for Peter to pull him forward, shutting the doors behind him and moving them through the place. Peter had considered heading straight to the couch, but with how emotionally wound up Stiles was, he decided against it.

“What -?” Stiles managed to mutter when Peter pushed him back slightly until he was sat on the bed. Crouching down, he slowly pulled the boy’s shoes off, even under these circumstances he wouldn’t allow shoes on the bed.

“Do you want your jeans off?” Peter asked, coaxing Stiles to drop the bags on the floor by the bed.

“What are you doing?” Stiles frowned.

“ _ We _ are going to lay down until we feel ready to face the world,” Peter said, not giving Stiles the opportunity to argue it. 

“I can go into the guest room,” Stiles said softly.

“We both know that will make you feel worse, but if you truly want to be alone, feel free,” Peter said with a wave of his hand as he stood up and toed his own shoes off. If Stiles did leave, Peter would only stay in his own bed and wait for him to return, because he had no doubts that Stiles would come back.

“I just - I don’t want to be in the way,” Stiles admitted.

“You won’t be,” Peter promised.

Stiles bit back the urge to ask ‘promise?’, knowing that it wouldn’t be necessary. Peter had  _ never _ done anything he didn’t want to, he even offered less often than that. Taking Peter’s word as fact, Stiles accepted the offer. He stood slowly, unbuttoning his jeans as he did so. He didn’t meet Peter’s eyes as he unzipped them and pushed them down his legs.

It felt strange to be doing this. Stiles felt so vulnerable as he stepped out of the pool of jeans, leaving himself in his t-shirt and boxers. It felt  _ intimate _ , and Stiles didn’t know how to deal with that acknowledgement.

“ _ Peter _ ,” he said quietly, struggling with the word for a second before he said it. 

“I’m here,” Peter replied as quietly, climbing onto the bed and beckoning Stiles to join him.

Stiles scrambled up onto the bed, latching himself onto Peter, tangling his legs with the older man's. It was soothing to just press his head onto Peter’s chest, the rise and fall of it with his breath and the steady heartbeat that thumped quietly. It was made even better when Peter began to stroke Stiles’ back, slowly easing away the last of the tension that he had been holding.

“I don’t want to go back,” Stiles admitted to Peter’s chest.

“You don’t have to,” Peter said. “Not if you don’t want to,” he knew it was dangerous to offer, especially with how much Stiles had been struggling. He couldn’t help but promise it, he wouldn’t force Stiles to leave. He would happily keep the boy safe.

“You’ll never get rid of me,” Stiles warned, aiming for a teasing tone but falling short.

“Would that be a bad thing?”

Peter heard the hitch in Stiles’ breath, the slight increase in his heart rate.

“I’m not going to get tired of you baby,” Peter pointed out.

“They did,” the words were barely audible, but they still made Peter want to hold Stiles even closer. The pain that radiated through them, was enough to make him reconsider leaving the pack to fail at their own hands rather than his own.

“They are imbeciles dear,” Peter said so surely that Stiles couldn’t help but smile.

“And you’re smarter,” Stiles added.

“I am,” Peter nodded, smiling at how lighter Stiles seemed to be from a moment ago. “I noticed how little you brought,” Peter pointed out. “School bag and a shopping bag.”

That seemed to be a keyword to change Stiles’ mood. He pushed himself up until he was steadily looking into Peter’s eyes. He narrowed his as Peter’s turned amused.

“You planned Chris waiting,” Stiles accused.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe,” Peter counteracted, “and he wanted to talk to you.”

“It was mean,” Stiles glared, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach at Peter’s easy admittance of wanting Stiles safe.

“It wasn’t too bad, was it?” Peter asked. He noted the deepening in Stiles’ blush, “what happened baby?”

“I - it was awkward,” Stiles said half-heartedly, looking away from Peter. He pushed himself up further until he was on his knees, sitting back on his feet. “He followed me around the shop and asked really awkward things.”

“Is that all?” Peter asked, knowing that Stiles was still hiding  _ something _ .

Stiles bit his lip, half tempted to announce how he had thought about kissing the man. How Chris had called what was between Peter and himself a  _ relationship _ . Stiles found himself glancing over the side of the bed, at the carrier bag.

"Promise you won't laugh?" Stiles asked, not meeting Peter's eyes.

"I won't laugh at you Stiles," Peter shrugged half-heartedly.

Stiles nodded, biting his lip more. He looked down at the bag again, and then at Peter. It shouldn't be difficult. Just take it out of the bag. Peter hasn't judged him yet, so why would he. This was the least weirdest thing… well, in theory, it wasn't the weirdest thing. The only issue is Stiles' age and he knew that was a bit of a stretch because he knew adults that had teddies. No one cared about them.

It was just difficult. Stiles knew it was silly, but it was hard.

He met Peter’s eyes again, the patience in them made him move. He leant over, far enough that he could reach the bag. He pulled it up slightly and took hold of the soft toy. He didn’t look up as he pulled it free from the bag.

Peter's lip twitched before he caught himself.

"What's it's name?" He asked.

"Name?" Stiles repeated, looking up in confusion before he remembered just how embarrassed he was. As soon as his eyes met Peter’s, he turned red.

"Of course," Peter smiled, reaching forward to run his thumb over Stiles’ cheek as he cupped the boy’s face. "They need a name."

"I - I didn't think of it," Stiles frowned, leaning into the touch. He looked at the teddy in deep thought, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

“Di,” Stiles said finally, nodding to himself in satisfaction.

“Die?” Peter repeated. 

“Not D-I-E, D-I,” Stiles smiled. “Short for Dianna.”

“I see,” Peter nodded. “Pretty name, a female wolf I take it?”

Stiles nodded, slightly pink once again as he went back to playing with the wolf’s ears, marvelling in just how soft they were.

Peter just smiled again, watching Stiles stroke the wolf’s ear as he pulled the boy back to him, letting the wolf be included in the hug as Stiles reattached himself to Peter. One arm curled around Peter’s chest, holding the teddy in place as Stiles buried his face between the fur and Peter’s chest.


	23. Poor Dianna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think this is my writing for two days. I would have split it up but there was no good point to do so. So, you get a long double length chapter and I can go sleep now!  
> This is pretty much pure smut. So be warned. Also enjoy? I think I got a little carried away in the second half, but it was the first time so it's understand how I took it (I hope!)

Peter took a second before opening his eyes where he just took a few deep breaths. He could hear Stiles’ heart, his breath, and even the people on the street, but Stiles was the main focus, even in his half asleep state.

It was almost as if all of the emotional states had been washed away in the middle of the night, gone was the pain, the sadness, the  _ grief _ . The base of what was  _ Stiles _ was evident, the honey-like scent that Peter knew he was going to become addicted to. As always, it wasn’t purely Stiles, human’s always had something underlying their scent, some emotional state. What Peter could smell was only an intensification of  _ Stiles _ , some emotions did nothing but make someone smell all the sweeter. Happiness, joy, excitement, all make the scents stronger. Sadness, pain, distress, they turned a person sour. It was typical that negative emotions had that effect,  _ well _ , all but fear. Fear and arousal in particular gave a person a spicy tint. Each emotional state did have a difference, one that most wolves did not care to learn, respecting the illusion of privacy and hoping that worked both ways.

Peter had never been such a person.

He had always been one to learn everything he could, to use that knowledge to his best ability. So, it was second nature for Peter to analyse just how Stiles smelt, how the air tasted so close to the boy.

Peter finally opened his eyes, glancing down to where Stiles had nuzzled his face into Peter’s chest. There was a soft whine that Stiles made, an asleep noise that reminded Peter of the young children who clung closer whenever they were pushed away. Amusingly enough, Stiles still had a hand wrapped around one arm of the werewolf teddy, which had only helped remind Peter of those young children, even if  _ this _ one looked more adorable than any of the others he had seen. Running his hand down Stiles’ back, he tried to soothe that small noise, trying to express to the sleeping boy that he wouldn’t push him away,  _ if anything _ , Peter would happily pull him closer.

Stiles’ heartbeat had increased slightly, indicating the likelihood of him waking. It would make it easier for Peter to do the right thing. He knew that he should leave, he should let Stiles wake without the warm body next to him. Yet, Peter couldn’t draw himself away just yet, not when Stiles smelt so sweet with just that hint of tang, that slight spice that hung to him. 

Peter would do a lot to keep Stiles’ scent just as it was, the lack of negativity with the low burning arousal. Peter  _ wanted _ to make the boy’s smell stronger. He wanted to push him onto his back and bring him to the brink of an orgasm, just to increase the smell, to let the boy be flooded with so much positivity that it was overwhelming. It was one of the joys of having someone so willing to give themselves over, to let another be in control of what they felt and when they felt it.

As if Stiles could sense just where Peter’s thoughts had turned, he moved his body even closer, his arm tightening around Peter’s chest, and his leg hiking slightly higher over Peter’s.

Stiles’ breath caught, still mostly asleep as the movement closed the very slight distance between himself and Peter.

Peter couldn’t quite bring himself to stop Stiles. Not when his body was pressed so tightly against his, not when the smell of  _ Stiles _ grew close enough to taste. He knew it was wrong, that he should move before he grew even more tempted to do something. He had done so much to emphasise how this should work, it wouldn’t be right to stop all of that work now.

A soft moan left Stiles’ lips, his hips slowly beginning to move, pressing his erection against Peter’s hip.

Peter knew, he knew that he was losing a half-hearted battle. There was no chance of him leaving, not now. He wouldn’t risk Stiles waking and pulling away, even though he knew that he shouldn’t let this continue.

Peter could shift slightly where he laid, he could make it easier for Stiles to press against him. For him to make the choice, even in his sleep, but that wouldn’t be  _ right _ . There was no way they were at  _ that _ point, plus, it should be discussed beforehand.

It would be so easy to ignore that. It  _ was _ tempting.

Peter could even wake Stiles up, he was on the edge of being awake, a small noise, a firm touch would push him back into the real world. Peter couldn’t sit with the acknowledgement of  _ that _ particular manipulation though, he wanted Stiles to want it on his own, not because Peter had done a little to push it.

_ Wow _ , he was becoming a fine upstanding citizen. It was almost sickening how much Stiles had done by just being around.

Stiles could feel himself moving when he woke. He could feel the pressure against his crotch and it only made him want more. He felt Peter’s arm tense somewhat before he was back to stroking down his back, making one of his rougher whines leave his throat. Stiles buried his face into Peter’s chest, letting himself fall into the sensation. It was easy to just let himself thrust against Peter, to feel the man’s firm body.

The fact he hadn’t been stopped was surreal, perhaps he was still dreaming. It would explain why he had woken up pressed against the warm body and able to chase his orgasm. Every single brush of his cock against Peter sent more sparks through his body. The addition of being able to hear Peter’s heartbeat in his chest only added to the growing  _ need _ .

Giving in, Peter moved slightly, letting stiles have more access to him to rub against, to rock against. He couldn’t willingly hold back against the soft tired whimpers that the boy was making. In this moment, Peter would willingly give the boy anything.

The hitches in his breath, the spice in his scent, the sweetness of precum that was making Stiles’ boxers damp were all things that made Peter consider pinning the boy down. He would taste amazing like this, even more so with an added hint of desperation.

“D - Daddy,”  Stiles gasped.

“I’m here baby,” Peter promised, stopping the stroking motion against Stiles’ back, instead, he pressed against the small of his back, pushing Stiles closer.

The gasp made the wait worth it, the small intake that Stiles took when he was flush against Peter’s hip. Almost as soon as that contact was made, his hips were rocking faster, small, barely there thrusts as the cloth dampened more.

“Come on baby,” Peter said quietly, his voice low. “You’re almost there. Just a little more.”

Stiles’ movements stuttered, all it took was one final thrust before he was spilling into his boxers, shivering at Peter’s low groan as he noticed. Peter’s quiet chuckle made him flush, the reality of what had just happened catching up to him. It  _ wasn’t _ a dream.

“That was quite the wake-up,” Peter murmured, he used the arm that was around Stiles to move the boy, his other hand moving to the leg slung over his own to pull Stiles until he was straddling him.

Stiles turned even redder.

“Don’t get so embarrassed,” Peter said as he cupped Stiles’ face. “Little boys have trouble with their urges sometimes,” he pointed out, smirking more when Stiles blushed even more. Brushing his thumb over the warm flesh, “I do feel sorry for Dianna though,” Peter sighed. “She had to see all of that and surely she should only see good behaviour.”

“Stop,” Stiles mumbled.

“Stop?” Peter repeated, “do you really want me to stop sweetheart?  _ You _ are the one that acted so naughty -”

“I didn’t,” Stiles protested lightly.

“Is that so?” Peter asked with a hum. “Were you a good boy? Did you stop when you realised just what it was you were doing? Or did you just keep going like a bad boy?”

“I -” the words stopped when Peter brushed his thumb over Stiles’ bottom lip. The boy's tongue coming out to touch the offending object.

“You were a  _ little _ bad weren’t you?” Peter prompted, his eyes on Stiles’ mouth. 

“Daddy,” Stiles breathed, his hips jerking a little again. A quiet ‘oh’ left his mouth when he rocked back against Peter’s crotch.

“Waking up all excited,” Peter continued, watching Stiles closely. “Not caring if I was awake as you humped me like a pup,” the tut in his voice was entirely fake but it made Stiles such a delicious colour.

“S’rry Daddy,” Stiles mumbled, his eyes looking slightly glazed. “St’p talking.”

Peter ran his free hand, the one not on Stiles’ face, up the boy's thigh, earning a small protest.

“How clear are your thoughts baby?” Peter asked, his tone gentle.

“L’l fuzzy,” Stiles admitted.

“Can you remember our word?” Peter asked, waiting for Stiles’ nod. “Say it for me baby.”

Stiles frowned, a hint of clarity coming back to his eyes as he spoke, “Don’t wanna,” he protested. “I want  _ you _ .”

“I know you do darling,” Peter smiled. “I need to make sure you’re still all you, because I don’t want to lose my pretty boy just yet.”

“You haven’t,” Stiles groaned as he wriggled. “I can’t get it up again this soon, stop talking,” he added, his voice clearer as he glared.

“Who says I want you that excited again?” Peter asked, an eyebrow raised. “You  _ were _ naughty, I just want to make sure you can make it up to me.”

Stiles fell forward, his face burrowing into Peter’s neck as he shivered slightly.

“Not fair Daddy,” he said with a whimper.

“It wasn’t fair of you to make a mess against me,” Peter pointed out, not mentioning how the  _ mess _ was contained in Stiles’ boxers because it was unnecessary at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said quietly. “It felt really good.”

Peter rubbed up Stiles’ back, letting out his own questioning hum as he did so.

“It wasn’t how good little boys act though,” Peter pointed out. 

“You’re being good,” Stiles pointed out, wriggling down Peter’s body slightly so he could press against the bulge in Peter’s jogging bottoms.

“I am?” Peter asked, slightly teasing. He let out a quiet growl as Stiles pressed more into him, his hands moving to the boy's hips to hold him steady. “You’ve been bad once this morning,” Peter warned.

“I want to make you feel good,” Stiles frowned, pulling back enough to look at Peter with those damn eyes.

“Just how are you planning that baby boy?” Peter asked, his eyes narrowed. He sighed when Stiles bit his lip, looking away from him. “Uh uh, you look at me,” Peter warned.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, you shouldn’t hide from me,” Peter explained, meeting Stiles’ eyes. “I have an idea,” Peter said slowly, knowing that he had Stiles’ attention again. “Since you were so naughty and you gave me my own problem to deal with, I think you should handle it yourself.”

Peter watched as Stiles licked his lips.

“You - you want  _ me _ -” Stiles stuttered out, making Peter’s grin grown even wider.

“I want you,” he agreed. “In particular, I want those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock.”

The full body shiver that overcame Stiles did nothing to ease Peter’s growing ego, nor the flare of arousal in both men.

“You going to be good for me?” Peter asked, brushing his thumb over Stiles’ lip again, grinning at the dazed nod he got in response. “Shuffle back,” Peter prompted, waiting until Stiles was knelt between his legs.

Peter pushed himself up, moving up the bed until he was leant against the headboard, not quite sat up but enough that he would be able to watch Stiles with ease. Peter didn’t need to prompt Stiles any further, the boy had laid on his front, propping himself up on his elbows as he levelled his head with Peter’s tenting jogging bottoms.

Stiles glanced up to Peter, seeing the man nod once before turning his attention back to his task. Peter  _ had _ said before that he'd be able to have time exploring him, so Stiles was happy to do just that.

Stiles shuffled forward, dipping his fingers into the waistband and pulling them down to reveal the bare skin. It shouldn’t have shocked him, yet it really did,  _ of course, _ Peter didn’t bother with trivial things like underwear.

“Take your time darling,” Peter promoted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice when Stiles slowly wrapped his fingers around Peter's cock.

Stiles resisted the urge to glance up and see Peter’s intense stare. He would rather focus on his current task. On how Peter’s cock ran warmer than his own hand, how it seemed to throb in his hold. Peter was uncut,  _ which made sense considering the werewolf fact _ .

He moved his hand slowly, watching as the foreskin moved. Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away as he brushed his thumb over the tip of Peter’ cock, spreading the bead of precum around.

Peter’s quiet groan made Stiles look up, just in time to see Peter tip his head back with his eyes closed. 

Stiles grinned, leaning forward slightly and letting his tongue swipe along the tip, chasing the salty taste, his grin faltering. It was a unique taste, not too different from his own. Peter’s hips jerked slightly, his hand gripping Stiles’ hair. The grip stayed light, barely there as he let Stiles set the pace.

Shuffling slightly again, Stiles leant down, recalling everything he had witnessed in porn as he licked up the underside of Peter’s cock. He repeated the action, making sure to leave his tongue out as Peter moaned softly. It was easy to envelop the head of the cock in his mouth like that, and he felt the twitch as Peter realised what he had done.

Stiles continued to move his hand on Peter’s cock, knowing that the likelihood he’d be able to take it all in his mouth was slim. He took note of the weight of Peter on his tongue, how he could feel the start of an ache in how wide he had his mouth open. It wasn’t  _ bad _ , Stiles had known he liked to have things in his mouth, the only difference was that Peter was certainly larger than  _ anything _ he could recall having. Granted, it wasn’t often that Stiles had gotten the chance to explore another person in such a way, and the odd pen or lace had a completely different feel.

Stiles closed his eyes, letting out a content hum as he focused more on his actions. The way he moved his head back and forth, the way he moved his tongue against the underside of Peter’s cock, the small movement of his hand on whatever wasn’t in his mouth.

“That’s a good boy,” Peter praised, moving from Stiles’ hair to stroke the boy’s cheek when he pulled back to catch his breath. “Next time, remember to breathe through your nose,” he pointed out, amused at how distracted Stiles had been to forget that  _ little _ detail of breathing.

Stiles nodded, leaning forward to take Peter back into his mouth, the ache in his jaw making itself more known. Stiles didn’t want to stop just yet though.

Slowly, he pushed forward, taking more of Peter’s cock, inch by inch. It was going well until he felt the head brush the back of his mouth. Stiles didn’t gag, it wasn’t quite  _ that _ far back but he did pull backwards. He felt Peter’s hand in his hair, stroking his scalp gently. He wanted to berate himself, he could have done more. It was just the shock of it, the knowledge that any further  _ would _ probably cause him to gag.

“Again?” Peter asked, trying his best not to sound demanding or ungrateful. He wanted Stiles to set the pace but he also wants the warmth back around him. He watched as Stiles bit his lip, before a timid nod happened again.

Peter groaned, unable to hold it back when Stiles took him as much as he comfortably could. Peter could feel the boy’s tongue, how he had sucked slightly to create a tighter sensation.

Stiles hummed, a response to Peter’s groan as he pushed himself further. Once again, he was overcome with the urge to pull back, to breathe without something so big being in his mouth but his stubborn streak refused to let him. It wasn’t unmanageable, it was nothing too deep, it was just  _ strange _ . An uncomfortable tickle.

Stiles tried to swallow, not quite wanting to pull back just yet but wanting the growing pool of saliva to be gone.

Losing himself slightly, Peter bucked into the sensation, into the tightening warmth. Only to realise just what he did when Stiles pulled back with a cough, his eyes damp.

“I’m sorry darling,” Peter said roughly, letting Stiles pull away more. “Just stay there ok?” he prompted, wrapping his hand around his slick cock and focusing on the picture before him. As much as he wanted to let Stiles continue, he was growing impatient. Stiles’ whisky eyes looking up at him, unshed tears shining as he waited so patiently. It wasn’t long before Peter came with a groan, watching the streaks of cum land on Stiles’ lips.

Peter pulled Stiles up, not caring about the mess on his face as he pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Morning baby,” he sighed when Stiles finally pulled back.

“Morning Daddy,” Stiles smiled back shyly.


	24. Kinks

Stiles had quickly slunk away to the shower, mumbling about how uncomfortable he was as Peter went to cook breakfast. Stiles didn’t take too long, just washing himself and trying not to focus on  _ what _ just happened. It was embarrassing to think about, about what he just did. He enjoyed it, but Stiles knew that he had not been completely himself.

Stiles found himself, once again dressed in Peter’s clothes, making his way over to where Peter was. He felt ridiculous, dressed in slightly oversized clothes as he held onto Dianna. 

“Feeling better?” Peter asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, taking a seat at the table. “Less sticky.”

“Good,” Peter chuckled.

“I should probably explain last night,” Stiles sighed as Peter sat in his own chair and pushed an omelette towards Stiles. 

“I’m not going to press it if you don’t want to,” Peter pointed out.

“How are you even real? You went from threatening to kill me, to… this,” Stiles huffed.

“Would you rather me threaten you again?” Peter asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I would at least know where I stood,” Stiles pointed out. He took a bite, chewing slowly. It was true, he felt like he was just waiting for the next wrong thing. That everything would crumble as soon as he got used to it all. “He thought that what happened with Scott was a prank,” Stiles sighed. “All I do is lie so this must be another one,” Stiles shrugged, the hurt was still clear in his voice even as he kept his face void of emotion.

“Every lie you told him had a purpose,” Peter pointed out. “As misguided as it was, you were trying to protect him.”

“It wasn’t misguided!” Stiles snapped.

“Why did you lie then?” Peter asked calmly.

“If I didn’t he would be in danger!”

“More danger than him not knowing the truth? More so than him having an interaction with something supernatural and being defenceless?” Peter asked.

“He’s not going to inter -”

“Stiles,” Peter said calmly, interrupting him. “In the past few years, this town has been drawing more and more things to it. The likelihood of him running into  _ something _ is high -”

“No,” Stiles said firmly. “He deals with  _ humans _ .”

“Humans get hurt,” Peter pointed out. “As much as we want to think we’re untouchable, the police do find us occasionally and with how much has happened in our town, it’s only a matter of time before they all see something they cannot explain away.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles shrugged. “He knows now anyway and all he can say about it is that I lied all the time.”

“You did what you thought was best,” Peter pointed out. “You shouldn’t have been in that position, but you did what you could.”

“If I told him -”

“We could play the what-if game for hours and feel even worse,” Peter interrupted. “It doesn’t change what has happened.”

“True,” Stiles agreed. “Doesn’t change that I lied to him -”

Stiles stopped when Peter sighed, he glanced down at his plate, not wanting to see Peter’s annoyance. It was bad enough that everyone else seemed to be fed up with him.

“Stiles,” Peter said slowly. “I want you to be honest with me now,” he said. “Did you have a reason for what you lied about?”

“Yes but -”

“No buts,” Peter chastised. “You had a reason. It doesn’t matter if it was a bad reason. Did you feel like that was the only reasonable choice you could make?”

Stiles nodded.

“Words please,” Peter prompted.

“Yes, it was the best choice,” Stiles frowned.

“Then the fact you lied isn’t important right now,” Peter explained. “Should you explain why you lied? Probably, that will show your dad that you had a reason -”

“He won’t listen,” Stiles pointed out bitterly.

“What makes you think that?” Peter asked curiously.

“Yesterday,” Stiles explained.

“Why?” It was a gentle probe, one that Stiles could have refused if he wanted.

“Just - he assumed things and wouldn’t let me talk. Like, he was talking about how Chris is so much older and it was  _ improper _ because he had - because of - just because of his age,” Stiles sighed. “He didn’t listen when I said it was nothing, that he was just being kind. Then he said all the shit about me lying and faking the fight with Scott and I  _ couldn’t  _ stay there. It’s not like he’ll even notice I’m gone.”

“Eat,” Peter suggested, noticing for the first time that Stiles had barely touched his food. “I cannot claim to know what was happening, and I’m not in any situation to have an impact on your relationship with your father. However, and I do stress that, I do think it was wrong of him not to listen to you,” Peter said, weighing his words as he spoke. He watched as Stiles ate slowly. “I understand his concern about Christopher, he is older and so am I. You should remember that, it puts you at a disadvantage,” Peter waited for the protest but it didn’t come.

“I will do my best to make sure you have space to be heard, and you know an easy way to make everything stop if you need to. That isn’t even during anything, you are free to talk and say what you want at any point,” Peter noted. “You need to have a voice and you should never settle for anything less.”

“Easy for you to say,” Stiles shrugged.

“It is,” Peter agreed. “I’m not submissive in the slightest, I have never been. I can only contemplate the desire to please someone by following what they say -”

“Can we stop?” Stiles asked. “Just - I don’t want to think about it all,” he added. “I’m not ready to face reality yet.”

“Of course,” Peter agreed with a slight nod, pleased when Stiles began eating again without being prompted. “You planning on gracing me with your presence all day?” he asked, smirking when Stiles nodded.

“That face is never good,” Stiles mumbled around his food.

“I think we should go over kinks -”

“Oh my god! Not you too!” Stiles groaned. “I just had to make Chris stop!”

“I won’t think too deeply on that just yet,” Peter said with a sigh. “First, you are going to finish your food and then we’ll go over some things.”

Stiles did as he was told, making sure to take his time as he chewed.

“Ok, so this,” Peter said, having gone to retrieve his laptop before putting it down in front of Stiles. “Is one of the, quite frankly ridiculous questionnaires, but it will work for us. I went over it before and have filled out my own preferences,” Peter said, he didn’t want to overwhelm Stiles by admitting that he had marked almost all of it down as ‘willing’ at the least. “Answer it honestly, only things we both are willing to try or wish to do will be shown at the end, so any of the naughtier fantasies will stay hidden unless we both want them. Understood?”

Stiles nodded, eyeing the screen with caution.

“This is merely a starting point,” Peter pointed out. “There are a lot of things that are not covered in this and just because you want to try something, or it sounds interesting doesn’t mean we have to do it and continue to do it.”

“I know,” Stiles said.

“Ok, now, off you go.”

Stiles waited until Peter and stood and left him alone in the room with the laptop. Stiles chuckled at how worried he had been when he read the first few ‘I wants’, which were about massages. He did pause at the small subset of questions about them taking pictures or videos. Not feeling comfortable with that thought, Stiles quickly marked them down as ‘no’.

“Use mirrors while having sex?” Stiles read out loud quietly. “That is worded weirdly.”

_ Maybe _ . It wasn’t on his list of things he  _ had _ to try, but it wasn’t something he was against, so if Peter wanted to, he would.

‘Wake Peter up/be woken by with oral sex’, Stiles could feel the consent lecture surrounding that one item,  _ it would be nice though _ . He marked it down as a maybe, that way he would have some deniability if he needed it.

‘Dirty talk’, was an automatic yes, but ‘Be called obscene words’ had Stiles biting his lip, unsure of just what to put. On one hand, he did enjoy porn like that, when they were spoken in such a rough but wanting way, it made his blood pool south.  _ Maybe. _

There were a few that Stiles had marked as no without a second thought, sex furniture, ear plugs, and hoods being a few of them. The majority of the items, he marked as maybes, willing to try them before making a full decision. 

‘Roleplay rape’ was the next one that Stiles paused at. He thought back to Peter’s admittance of taking part in a non-consensual scene. Stiles was tempted to mark it down as a maybe, it was something he wasn’t completely opposed to. In the end, he marked it as  _ no _ . He didn’t feel comfortable doing that yet.


	25. Sharks

Stiles had finished the questionnaire and had gone to search for Peter. He ignored the fact he could have just spoken to get the man’s attention. Stiles would rather not face the reality of what he had just filled out just yet, rather, he would prefer to stay close to Peter and just forget that the world was such a demanding thing. Peter had a way of allowing Stiles just that. Letting him forget the chaos in his mind and just live in the moment.

“Stiles?”

Stiles glanced up, seeing Peter’s frown. He felt himself frown at Peter’s own frown.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

“I finished,” Stiles said.

“No questions?”

Stiles shook his head.

“Shall we look at the results?” Peter asked slowly. He knew that something had changed from the easy-going nature Stiles had this morning, he just couldn’t place _what_ had changed.

Stiles shook his head again.

“I need words baby boy,” Peter reminded him.

“I just –” Stiles stopped, frowning as he looked down.

“What do you want to do?” Peter asked. He moved closer to Stiles.

“Can we just… watch something?” Stiles asked, his voice soft.

“You don’t want to look over the results?”

“No,” Stiles said softly. “I don’t want to,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Ok,” Peter agreed. “Why don’t you go and find something to watch and I’ll be along in a second.”

Stiles looked as though he would disagree, he bit his lip before nodding.

Peter listened as Stiles made his way to the living room, his heart rate was high, but not enough to cause any outright concern. Keeping his senses on Stiles, Peter finished making his way to the kitchen, where Stiles had left the laptop still open.

Peter sat down at the table, ignoring the teddy bear laid on its back as he pulled the laptop closer. He saved the results, taking a quick glance through them. The majority of what had been shown were more common things like blindfolds, restraints and gags, which were easy to introduce. Toys, porn, and dirty talk were also on the list, which, Peter once again, had expected. He was slightly surprised at the biting, he had assumed Stiles would not like that due to the werewolf fact, but it was a pleasant surprise. The openness to semi-public acts were also a surprise, one that Peter enjoyed, he would take his time to take Stiles apart in the woods if he could. The orgasm control wasn’t a huge surprise, but Peter still had his doubts, he had been unsure as to how Stiles would react since it could potentially be too much for him, but it was marked as a willing to try.

There were three items that made Peter pause. It seemed as though Stiles had a _small_ exhibitionist streak in him as he wanted to try sex in front of other people, plus, the addition of another person being left as a possibility from both of their questionnaires, which was _interesting_. The one that really struck Peter as off, although considering it was _Stiles_ , it really shouldn’t have, was the willingness he had to involve weapons into their sessions, it hadn’t been marked as a ‘try’, only a ‘yes’.

“I found something,” Peter heard Stiles say.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been such a shock, he had noticed how the boy reacted to Chris, and the comment that had slipped while he was tired.

Peter shut down the laptop, taking a second to just catalogue what he had learnt. He hadn’t expected it, even though he had learnt early on not to expect _anything_ in particular from anyone.

Peter tilted his head as Stiles mumbled about Peter taking so much time. With a fond sigh, Peter pushed himself away from the table, picking up Dianna as he did so.

Stiles was sat on the couch, his legs crossed as he bounced a knee.

“Finally!” Stiles groaned. “Hurry up! Sit down!”

Stiles’ reaction to Peter holding out Dianna made the wolf smile. Stiles instantly made grabby hands as his eyes widened.

“Di!” he gasped. “I forgot you!”

Peter let Stiles pull the teddy from his grasp, watching as Stiles hugged her close to his chest before sitting her next to him.

“Now sit,” Stiles demanded, sending Peter a glare.

“Demanding little shit,” Peter teased, but he did sit next to Stiles, leaving the boy between him and the teddy. Once Peter was sat, Stiles was pressed against his side, burrowing under an arm. “What did you choose?”

“Shark week is on,” Stiles said gleefully, a wide grin on his face. “Love me some sharks, look at how gorgeous they are!” he cooed, pointing at the screen,

“They are…. something,” Peter said slowly.

“Don’t hate on the hammerhead,” Stiles scolded. “They are beautiful!”

“If you say so sweetheart,” Peter sighed. He resigned to watching sharks as Stiles oohed and awwed at every new angle showing a shark.

Peter didn’t quite understand _how_ it happened. They had watched two of the shark week specials and Stiles had managed to find his way to sprawl across Peter, who had somehow found himself lying down.

There was a loud knock on the door.

“No,” Stiles pouted, tightening his grip on Peter. “I’m not moving, they’ll go away.”

“I should get it baby,” Peter pointed out, not holding back the amused smile at Stiles’ distressed noise.

“No,” he whined, clinging more, “Don’t make me move.”

“You can’t stay here forever,” Peter explained, hearing another knock.

“Can, try me,” Stiles said firmly.

Peter sighed, hearing his phone chime as another knock sounded. Clearly, Chris was a bit impatient at the moment. Not wanting to tempt the hunter into picking the lock, Peter picked Stiles up as he sat upright. He dropped Stiles on the couch gently before heading to the door, hearing Stiles’ annoyed grumbles behind him.

“Took you long enough,” Chris muttered when Peter _finally_ got to the door.

“Tell them to leave,” Chris heard Stiles’ whine from in the apartment.

“Now you know why,” Peter pointed out, unamused when Chris raised an eyebrow. “Come in,” Peter sighed.

“ _Peter_!” Stiles whined.

“No Daddy today?” Chris asked.

“Kindly shut your mouth,” Peter rolled his eyes. He was silent for a second before he sighed, “he’s being a brat today.”

“Poor you.”

“I’ll watch the babies without you!” Stiles threatened.

“Babies?” Chris asked, already making his way towards Stiles’ voice.

“Sharks, the kid has a fetish it seems,” Peter clarified.

“I don’t want to know,” Chris shook his head with a laugh.

“Chris!” Stiles gasped, seeing the man. His eyes widened as his heart skyrocketed. “I didn’t know you were coming here.”

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Chris admitted. “I thought I’d have that chat now rather than waiting.”

“Oh… I’m going to… _go_ ,” Stiles muttered, refusing to look up as he stood grabbed Dianna and almost ran from the room, but not before catching sight of how Chris reacted to him holding the teddy close.

“Must you do that?” Peter sighed.

“I didn’t do anything,” Chris smirked, shrugging a shoulder.

“He’s barely handling all of this without the conflicted feelings about you,” Peter snapped.

“I haven’t done anything,” Chris pointed out, his smirk gone. Peter nodded at the steady heart rate.

“I know,” he said. It annoyed him to admit it. “Your moral code is too high to step in.”

“He’s young,” Chris said, proving Peter’s point.

“He’s well informed,” Peter pointed out.

“He’s a child,” Chris said with a sigh. He gave Peter a hard look. “Just – keep doing what you’re doing. He needs to stay informed and in control.”

“Of course,” Peter drawled. “I don’t need the consent lecture, _Christopher_.”

“Just _listen_ ,” Chris stressed. “He says stop, and you do just that. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly,” Peter smirked. “I plan to have him happily consenting to everything. This isn’t my first rodeo. He isn’t even the youngest –”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Chris snapped.

“Should I keep you in mind?” Peter asked, his expression masked once again as he watched Chris. “We discussed a few things and _you_ are a possibility –”

“Shut up before I shoot you,” Chris threatened through gritted teeth.

“Before you pull it out, we should call Stiles back. He seems to have a thing for weapons,” Peter smirked, his eyes teasing.

Chris didn’t dignify that with a response, turning on the spot to leave before Peter reached out and grasped his arm.

“Stay for a drink Christopher,” he said smoothly.

“I want no part in whatever you are planning and you will leave that boy out of it,” Chris said firmly.

“I’m not planning,” Peter said innocently. “Only offering a beverage, or is the hunter too paranoid to accept?”

“Coffee, black,” Chris snapped, letting a glare find Peter’s triumphant grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot imagine Peter saying Christopher in anything other than a silky teasing tone and I love it. The two just play off each other nicely and ugh, I love them.


	26. Awkward Conversation

“You cannot hide forever,” Peter pointed out when he saw Stiles standing in the kitchen. “Go back in and watch your sharks.”

“But he’s there!” Stiles groaned. “It’s embarrassing. He saw Di and he knows about us and – and – I don’t know ok, he makes me feel weird.”

Peter pulled Stiles close to him, not even trying to be discreet about how he scented him. Nothing too negative, so it wasn’t an overly _bad_ weird.

“How does he make you feel weird baby?” Peter asked softly.

“He just does,” Stiles mumbled. “I don’t know what to expect from him and he told me to buy Di when he saw how much I liked her and then he was nice – like _really_ nice and he should hate me,” Stiles pointed out, talking into Peter’s shoulder. “He bought the groceries for me, _who does that_? He trusted me with his car keys and I could have just left him there! He keeps calling me ‘kid’ and I’m not a kid but he keeps saying it and then he makes it seem like he _cares_ and that can’t be true,” Stiles protested. “He called you my daddy,” Stiles admitted. “He said it in a really…” _seductive? Teasing? Hot?_ “Weird way,” Stiles settled on.

Peter hummed for a second, digesting everything that Stiles said.

“Weird bad? Or weird good?” Peter asked.

“Good – I think. I – he’s –” Stiles sighed, annoyed at himself for not finding the right words.

“You remember I told you it’s ok to be attracted to other people?” Peter pointed out, pushing Stiles back enough so he could look him in the eye. “You told me he was rugged. I can smell the attraction, my dear boy,” he added, shaking his head with a smile when Stiles’ eyes dropped.

“I –” Peter watched as Stiles’ tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I wanted to kiss him,” Stiles confessed.

Peter’s grin turned wide as his eyes twinkled in the light.

“Shall we play a little game darling?” he asked, his voice soft and low as he lifted Stiles’ head again.

“A game?” Stiles repeated wearily.

“We don’t have to, but it might just get you that kiss,” Peter teased. He smirked at Stiles shocked intake. “Want to try it sweetheart?”

“I –” Stiles exhaled. “I don’t know,” he whined.

“I won’t force it,” Peter reminded him. “I just want to show off my good little boy,” Peter confessed.

“What are you planning?” Stiles asked, slightly breathlessly.

Peter hummed again, stroking Stiles’ cheek.

“I was thinking about making you smell all sweet for me,” Peter explained. “If you’re ok with it, I want you to hold your bladder just a little. You made so many gorgeous noises last time but you did say that you had mixed feelings about it, so we don’t have to,” he said, his hand moving to Stiles’ neck when the boy shivered. “I want you so beautifully aroused so we can tempt Christopher and get you that kiss you wanted.”

“ _Daddy_ ,” Stiles whimpered.

“Want to play darling?” Peter asked, squeezing Stiles’ neck gently, smirking more at the small moan Stiles made as he nodded. “So, are you planning on going back to your shark show?”

“But that’s not –” Stiles frowned. Peter pulled Stiles forward again, cutting him off with a kiss.

“Take a bottle of water with you and go and watch the sharks,” Peter said quietly. “I’ll be along soon.”

“Ok,” Stiles nodded.

“Do you want Dianna to stay in here or are you taking her with you?” Peter questioned. The embarrassment flared back up as Stiles flushed. “You want to take her with you,” Peter pointed out.

Stiles nodded shyly.

“That’s ok darling,” Peter sighed. “I’m sure you can be a big boy and show Chris and tell him what name you picked.”

“No,” Stiles protested quickly. “I’m not telling him!” Stiles said firmly.

“Just take Dianna with you,” Peter ordered gently.

“Fine,” Stiles pouted.

“Brat,” Peter said fondly as he started to work on the drinks. He handed Stiles a bottle of water before he disappeared off towards the living room.

Stiles slowly slunk back into the living room, refusing to look at Chris as he sat on the couch. He put Dianna next to him, and took a drink. He made an effort to ignore Chris’ curious glances, which had only resulted in Stiles shifting in his seat every time he felt a gaze on him. Even the Great White Sharks did little to hold his attention.

“I thought I said talk,” Peter called from the kitchen, making Stiles blush bright red.

“ _Stupid werewolves and their stupid hearing_ ,” Stiles hissed under his breath. He chanced a look over to Chris, turning redder at the amused expression that met his.

“He’s going to think I did something,” Chris chuckled.

“I called her Dianna,” Stiles said quickly.

“The wolf?” Chris asked, just to clarify.

Stiles nodded.

“Interesting,” Chris said. “Are you aware of Roman mythology?”

“No, why?” Stiles frowned, looking back up to Chris as he spoke.

“Diana was the name of one of their goddesses,” Chris explained, his voice soothing. “She was the goddess of the hunt, the moon and nature. It fits for her,” he finished.

Stiles grinned, looking back at his teddy. He hadn’t known that, but he was happy that the name was so closely connected to something wolfish.

“Black coffee,” Peter said as he came in with two cups, handing one to Chris, who was sat in the armchair before gracefully sitting next to Stiles. He waited until he had placed his own cup down before pulling Stiles closer, ignoring his squawk, to whisper; “that’s my good boy,” into Stiles’ ear, bringing that bright red back into his face.

Peter caught Chris’ eyes when Stiles pulled back, trying to get some distance between them as his embarrassment was back.

“What did I miss of the sharks?” Peter asked, letting the conversation fall to something that would ease Stiles slightly.

“Oh, I – I think this is the one where they talk about the sharks disappearing for the rest of the season after one is killed. It’s because the blood sends out a huge ‘leave now it’s dangerous’ sign to them and they go into hiding underwater for a bit before continuing the normal migration journey. They even test it on a shark in tonic immobility and it snapped them out of it and the shark fled. So, it’s really strong stuff and it’s just –” Stiles fell silent when he noticed both Chris and Peter watching him.

“Go on,” Peter prompted gently.

Stiles shook his head, “The show will explain it better.”

“You’re a fan of sharks?” Chris asked.

“Kind of?” Stiles mumbled. “They’re cool you know,” he shrugged.

Peter ran his hand up Stiles’ back, watching as the boy’s head tilted back slightly as he closed his eyes, relaxing into the touch.

“Wait,” Stiles said, opening his eyes again and looking at Chris with a frown. “You wanted to talk, and I’m just info-dumping and making you watch shark things. You should be talking.”

“We talked while you were hiding darling,” Peter said softly, not giving Chris a chance to contradict what he said as he pulled Stiles back towards him. “Now hush, take a drink and enjoy the show.”

Stiles stayed tense for another minute, only relaxing when Peter rubbed his hand over his arm. He opened the bottle and took another drink, trying to pretend he didn’t feel either of them watching him. He had a small moment where he felt as though sharks surrounded him, just waiting to eat him – _even though he knew better than that_.

Stiles startled out of his thoughts when Peter placed Dianna on his lap. Without thinking, Stiles wrapped a hand around her and pulled her close, mumbling a quiet; “thanks daddy,” as he did.


	27. Phase One

Stiles soon got sucked back into the documentary, taking sips of water when Peter gently prompted it by nudging the bottle. There had been a few times that Peter had stood, much to Stiles’ whine of disappointment, when he had remade a drink for himself and Chris whilst collecting another two bottles of water to place next to Stiles.

It was halfway through the second bottle that Stiles had begun to fidget in his place, he still paid attention to the show, even as his movements drew attention to himself.

Peter couldn’t stop the smirk when Chris met his eyes with a questioning look. It was too easy to slip his hand under Stiles’ t-shirt as he wrapped his arm around so his hand was placed on the boy’s stomach. There was a spike of arousal as Peter’s hand drifted to his lower stomach.

Stiles looked at Peter with a weary glance before focusing back on the television. He tensed, biting his lip to hold back the gasp when Peter pressed on Stiles’ stomach.

“You ok over there?” Chris asked, glancing over to where Stiles sat overly still. He raised his eyebrow at Peter, who smiled back innocently.

“I’ll be back in a moment darling,” Peter said, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple before standing again.

“I’ll just –”

“No darling,” Peter said. “Be good and stay right here for me,” he added softer, knowing that Chris still caught the words as his heart sped up slightly. “Do you want to do that?”

Stiles nodded, glancing over to Chris, just in time to see him look away.

“Words baby boy,” Peter prompted.

“I – I do,” Stiles said. “ _Daddy_ ,” he added in a whisper when Peter raised his own eyebrow. It was different being aware of someone else in the room as he said it, he could feel the heat on his face as Peter caressed his cheek.

“That’s my good boy,” Peter praised, delighting in the blush Stiles was sporting.

“Don’t say _anything_ ,” Stiles groaned as Peter left.

“Nothing to say,” Chris replied, but Stiles heard the amusement in his tone.

Turning to glare, he felt his breath stop at just how Chris was watching him.

“You’re embarrassed,” Chris pointed out.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Stiles asked finally pulling his gaze away from Chris.

“You like what you like,” Chris shrugged. “Never would have guessed you were an exhibitionist.”

“I – I’m not!” Stiles snapped, regaining his ability to glare at the annoyingly amused man.

“Now darling, don’t be a brat,” Peter said lightly, standing behind the couch.

“He started it!” Stiles frowned. He sunk into Peter’s touch when a hand touched the back of his neck.

“I’m not going to say it again sweetheart,” Peter warned. “Behave,” there was a slight growl to the word that sent a shiver down his spine.

Stiles looked over to Chris for a second before quickly looking away. The man had been watching him intensely, and Stiles couldn’t hold that eye contact.

“Perhaps an apology is in order,” Peter mused, taking note of Stiles’ spike of heart rate. Peter squeezed the back of Stiles’ neck again, humming as the boy slumped at the action.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbled.

“Now Stiles,” Peter sighed. “I’m not sure who you were talking to there but I doubt Christopher would be willing to accept that apology for your attitude. You can do better than that.”

“I’m sorry Chris,” Stiles said quietly, looking up to meet the man’s eyes as he spoke before looking away again.

“ _Christopher_ ,” Peter said silkily. “Was that good enough, or do you want something _more_?”

Stiles wriggled, feeling full along with the embarrassment of everything happening at the moment. He knew he could stop it. It would be easy and Peter would make sure he was ok.

“I don’t think he could take too much more,” Chris commented lightly, but a warning tone was clear as he watched Peter and Stiles.

“Do you want me to stop baby?” Peter asked Stiles, running a hand through his hair.

Stiles made a noise in the back of his throat. He didn’t know how to answer that. He hadn’t said _stop_ , or safeworded, but he didn’t want to agree to the embarrassment because that felt too much. He didn’t _want_ to say no, or yes to the question Peter asked.

“Do you need a moment?” Peter asked, his voice gentler.

“No,” Stiles said immediately, his cheeks reddening. “I –”

Peter pulled Stiles back against the back of the couch, tilting his head back to look up at him.

“Words darling,” he reminded.

“I like it,” Stiles mumbled.

“I know,” Peter pointed out. “Do you want me to stop?”

Stiles bit his lip, meeting Peter's eyes before shaking his head slowly.

“You’ll stop if it gets too much?” Peter asked softly, running his thumbs over Stiles’ jaw.

“Duh,” Stiles rolled his eyes. He gasped lightly when Peter’s hold on him tightened in warning. “I’ll stop if it gets too much,” Stiles repeated.

“Good boy,” Peter nodded, stepping back, and releasing Stiles.

Stiles kept his head back on the couch, his eyes closing as Peter’s praise washed over him.

“Finish your water darling,” Peter prompted gently. “Another drink Christopher?”

“No, I’m good,” the hunter said stiffly, almost as if there was more to his words than Stiles knew.

Stiles didn’t have to look behind him to know that Peter had nodded in response to Chris. Perhaps he had gotten the hidden meaning that Chris seemed to convey. Stiles felt Peter’s hand brush through his hair before the man disappeared once again.

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled, catching Chris’ expression when he opened his eyes, before taking steady drinks from the bottle until it was empty.

“You’re very sensitive today,” Chris said lightly.

Stiles clenched his jaw, knowing that snapping back in response would only make Peter use _that_ tone again. He didn’t want to end the game. He was just nervous about the game. About Chris. The _man_ made him nervous. Even sat alone with him with Peter in hearing distance made him nervous. It made him shake his leg. The movement making his bladder jostle slightly, reminding him just what Peter was trying to cause.

Stiles tightened his hand around Dianna, moving her onto his lap, refusing to look over at Chris to see if he saw what he did. It was little to hide how vulnerable he felt, but it offered some sense of safety.

Looking around, Stiles huffed at the fact Peter wasn’t in sight. The man had seemed to be continuously moving, leaving Stiles behind as he did so.

“You could go follow him like a lost puppy,” Chris pointed out, his mouth twitching as he forced back his amusement.

“I’m not a puppy,” Stiles snapped, turning slightly pink. It was only once he had spoken that he realised just _how_ he had said it, resulting in a groan. “Just… shush, ok? Werewolf hearing is a bitch –”

“Now Stiles,” Chris tutted half-heartedly. “Wouldn’t want _Daddy_ to hear, would you?”

“Bastard,” Stiles hissed, unable to stop his cheeks turning even brighter as he wriggled in his seat, biting back a groan at how the motion made his bladder even more noticeable.

Stiles managed to hold back the remark when Peter came back, silent in his movements.

“I leave you alone for a minute and you are being rude,” Peter sighed, pulling Stiles onto his lap.

“Dude!” Stiles gasped, struggling slightly until Peter’s grip on his waist tightened warningly as he growled softly. Stiles shot a worried look over to Chris, only to see that the man had seemingly refocused his attention onto the television.

“You’re going to pay for that one darling,” Peter said softly, pressing a kiss just below Stiles’ ear. One of Peter’s hand moved to the outside of Stiles’ thigh and tapped gently. “Spread them for me,” he whispered quietly enough for only Stiles to hear.

“But –”

“Now Stiles,” Peter said firmly. “You either do this or we find another way,” Peter tilted Stiles head so he glanced over to the corner of the room. “It looks a bit empty don’t you think? A pretty boy with his nose against the corner would fill the space rather nicely.”

Stiles whined low in his throat and Peter wanted nothing more than to bite at where the noise had vibrated. To layer marks over Stiles’ neck, to draw whatever sounds he could from the boy.

“Change of plans,” Peter mused aloud. “Off you go,” he pushed Stiles upright, hands on the boy’s hips to keep him steady. Stiles waited until he felt stable before rushing for the room, a hand pressed to his stomach and his cheeks pink.

“What was all of that?” Chris drawled, pushing himself up as Peter did the same, sensing a change in the atmosphere.

“He consented, don’t fret,” Peter smirked, he knew that Chris was leaving. It was a shame, but they had done enough to at least make him think about Stiles. Peter was just that impatient that this battle had to be postponed just a little.

“I said I want no part in this,” Chris pointed out.

“ _Christopher_ ,” Peter sighed. “You’re already involved. It is merely just a waiting game now. I have every intention of getting Stiles the kiss he wants and _much more_.” It was almost worth it, seeing the shock-slacked expression before Chris could regather himself.

“Quickly Stiles,” Peter said, raising his voice slightly for the human. “Christopher is leaving.”

“What?” they both hear Stiles call back. “Wait – _fuck_. Do I need to say goodbye?”

“Quickly Stiles,” Peter repeated, his tone firmer. He heard the increase in the boy’s heart rate, how his breath stuttered.

It was less than a minute later that Stiles was stood fidgeting next to him, looking everywhere but Chris.

“See you soon?” Stiles said, wincing when Peter sighed in mock annoyance.

“Ideally not too soon,” Peter added, his voice like honey. “I have plans that will last probably forty-eight hours, maybe more.” He met Chris’ eyes, challenging him. It was simple to see the ruffled feathers on the hunter. The way he had stiffened as though the thought of such a lengthy plan was inexcusable.

“Stiles,” Chris said gently, his eyes not leaving Peter. “Come here for a second.”

Stiles looked between the two men with a frown. It was Peter’s touch on his lower back that made him move forward. He didn’t expect Chris to meet his eyes, the hardness leaving as he searched Stiles’ face. He didn’t expect Chris’ hand on his upper arm, or the fact the man moved closer.

Stiles gasped as Chris’ mouth touched his, in shock, a hand grasped onto the hunter’s shirt, as Stiles pressed into the kiss. Chris takes Stiles’ gasp as an invitation to coax the boy into a deeper kiss, letting his eyes open and meet Peter’s, who simply watched with a bored expression as Stiles whimpered against Chris’ mouth.

“I do believe you were leaving Christopher,” Peter said silkily, a smirk on his lips as he pulled Stiles back towards him, his hands on the boy’s waist and his head on his shoulder.


	28. A Lesson In Self Control

Stiles was still in a state of shock when Chris left, he barely reacted when Peter placed a kiss on the back of his neck. It wasn’t until Peter had bitten down with human teeth that Stiles came back to the real world with a groan.

“Be a dear and go to the bedroom, strip and lay back on the bed. I want your hands on the headboard, do not move them. Do you understand?” Peter asked, his tone firm as he spoke quietly into Stiles’ ear. He let out a growl when Stiles nodded. “I won’t tell you to use your words again darling,” Peter warned.

“I understand,” Stiles said breathlessly.

Peter pressed his lips to Stiles’ neck again, itching to _bite_. It would be easy, just to take the boy apart in any way possible. Perhaps it wasn’t the best to do this whilst Peter was in such a mood, when he wanted to draw the whimpers from Stiles, when he wanted to make it all last beyond what Stiles was capable of.

Peter didn’t have the chance to do anything more before Stiles was scrambling away to do as he was told. Peter kept his senses on Stiles, making an attempt to leave the boy waiting once he got settled. He managed a whole five minutes before he was following the path Stiles took.

Peter stepped into the room, letting himself look over to where Stiles was laid. The boy was already hard, breathing heavier than normal as his hands were wrapped around the headboard bars. His cheeks were pink as Peter let his gaze wander over his body.

“We’re going to try something a little different darling,” Peter said calmly. “You wanted to try orgasm control?” Peter asked. He accepted Stiles’ quick nod. “For this, the safeword is the end-all. You can say no, you can beg me to stop but I do not plan to unless you safeword. Understood?”

“Yes,” Stiles said softly.

“I will check in with you, but until I decide, you are not allowed to cum. Normally, I would have a ring around that pretty cock but I feel that the added challenge should be there after what just happened. Do you agree?”

“I – I didn’t do anything,” Stiles protested. It was half-hearted and Peter knew that.

“So you weren’t disrespectful?” Peter asked skeptically. “I thought I said I wanted to show off my good little boy, and you weren’t all that good,” he pointed out as Stiles wriggled uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” Stiles mumbled.

“I’m sure you are,” Peter agreed. “It was only minor,” he added. “So, the repercussions are not too harsh. It’s just a lesson of self-control.”

“I – _don’t_ need a lesson,” Stiles huffed.

Peter rolled his eyes, stepping closer to where Stiles was laid out. He paused for a second, collecting the bottle of lube from the bedside table before gracefully climbing onto the bed.

“You look delectable my dear,” Peter said, smirking as Stiles blushed. “None of that,” he said, tapping Stiles’ cheek when the boy tried to turn his head away. Peter threw a leg over Stiles, taking care as he straddled the boy’s thighs, trying not to put too much weight onto Stiles.

Leaning forward, Peter caught Stiles’ mouth with his own. Enjoying the taste of Stiles with the barest hint that Chris left behind. Taking his time, Peter slowly drew out the last of Chris’ taste, replacing it with his own as Stiles groaned into the kiss. Stiles’ hands were soon tangled around Peter’s neck, into his hair before Peter could growl and pin the offending hands back down.

“You’ve already disappointed me today Stiles, do not do it again,” Peter warned, holding Stiles’ wrists above his head. “Do. Not. Move. Them. If you do, I will tie them down and I _really_ don’t want to do that.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said breathlessly, “I – I won’t move them again.”

“Good boy,” Peter purred, slowly letting go of Stiles' hands, watching when he wrapped them around the headboard again. He angled Stiles’ head back slightly, letting his mouth move to the boy’s throat. Stiles arched his back, baring his neck more with a low moan when Peter bit down over the pulse point.

“I do love the noises you make,” Peter said against the dampened skin. He slowly moved his mouth down to the collarbone, nipping the skin as Stiles gripped tighter onto the bars. Stiles didn’t react much to the first brush of lips against his nipple, it wasn’t until Peter caught one better his teeth and pulled. Stiles keened at the sensation, his back arching and his fingers loosening their hold before he caught himself.

Peter took a breath, breathing in Stiles. The pool of arousal that was building, the steady leaking of precum gathering.

“You got your kiss darling,” Peter pointed out, his breath still brushing over Stiles’ chest. “Christopher enjoyed it too,” he continued, “maybe next time we can have him watch,” Peter suggested quietly sitting back on Stiles’ thighs, his hand running down Stiles’ chest. “I could blindfold you, you’d never see his gaze on you. You wouldn’t see how he reacts. His full attention on _you_. I’m sure he would watch every single reaction you would make. Do you think he would like to see you like this?” Peter asked. “So gorgeous for me.”

Stiles shook his head.

“I think he would darling,” Peter said calmly. He ran his hand over Stiles’ stomach, inching closer towards his twitching cock. “I’m sure he would love to see you all spread out for me. Maybe it would even tempt him,” Peter mused, wrapping his hand around Stiles’ cock.

“ _God_ ,” Stiles groaned, his eyes closing as his hips bucked.

“Now darling,” Peter chastised lightly. “Stay still for me,” but that was almost impossible, and Peter knew that. The broken groan Stiles gave in response was enough to make Peter consider ditching his own plan to draw this out.

Peter squeezed his hand around Stiles’ cock just enough to draw out another moan before he started working his hand over the leaking cock. It caused a hitch in Stiles’ breath as he tried his best not to thrust up to meet the movements.

“I don’t even need any lube,” Peter pointed out, “you’re practically slick with how much precum you’re oozing.”

“ _Oh_ – oozing – _ah_ – not sexy word – _fuck_ , please,” Stiles managed to force out.

“In that case,” Peter said with a mock sigh, he slowly released Stiles’ cock.

“No!” Stiles whimpered, his hips bucking at the sudden change in feeling. “Don’t stop,” he groaned, opening his eyes to glare at Peter weakly.

Taking pity, and wanting to see just how much further Stiles could go, Peter wrapped his hand back around Stiles, smirking at how his cock had twitched in his hand. Unlike the slow pace he had set before, Peter worked towards Stiles’ orgasm, moving his hand faster and listening for the signs.

Stiles’ low moans almost drown out his heart rate, but the approach was easily visible as Stiles had begun to tense, all the effort he had put into not moving his hips had stopped as his whole body twitched.

“ _No_!” Stiles protested weakly once Peter had backed away again. He could feel how warm his whole body was, how fast his heart was going and how uneven his breath way. “Please.”

“Knees bent, feet on the bed,” Peter directed as he moved from Stiles’ thighs. He helped arrange Stiles as he wanted. “That’s a good boy,” Peter said softly, letting a hand slip up Stiles’ thigh. The momentary movement managed to calm Stiles’ erratic pulse just a bit. “I’m going to finger your lovely little hole until you’re begging me to stop,” he promised.

“N – no,” Stiles gasped, his eyes wide. “It’s too much,” he protested.

Peter made a thoughtful noise, reclaiming the lube that he had put next to him. He poured some on his fingers, taking his time to warm it up before he moved closer.

“Keep your hands still,” Peter reminded him, he lifted Stiles slightly, just so he could easily slip a finger into his ass.

“No,” Stiles groaned, baring his neck as he pressed his head back into the mattress. “I’m too close.”

“You’ll just have to be good and hold back,” Peter said nonchalantly, adding a second finger as Stiles moaned. “As much as you’re protesting, you’ve taken my fingers so nicely. Such a greedy little boy,” Peter tutted.

Stiles’ hips jerked off the bed, his head being thrown back again as his knuckles turned white against the headboard.

“Such a pretty moan,” Peter said with a hum, letting his fingers brush against his prostate again. “I wonder if you are one of the ones that can cum from this,” Peter mused. “Not every male can. Some get so close but need that little extra to truly get their orgasm. It just builds until it’s too much but you don’t get the relief. Maybe we should test it?” Peter said, focusing his movements on Stiles’ prostate, letting his fingers press and massage against the bundle.

“Fuck,” Stiles groaned, his voice hoarse. He rocked back as best he could on Peter’s fingers and just as the man had said, the heat was spreading through his body. It was almost too much, he felt too warm. His breath was uneven.

All too soon, the sensations stopped as Peter removed his hand.

“No!” Stiles moaned weakly. “Please!” he added.

“Please what?” Peter wrapped his hand loosely around Stiles’ cock, grinning as the boy keened.

“Please Daddy,” Stiles whimpered.

“Not quite what I was looking for baby,” Peter smiled. “What is it you want?”

“Let me cum, I need it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Peter sighed, “Fuck my fist darling,” without waiting for another second, Stiles was thrusting up quickly, chasing the feelings he had been denied for so long.

Peter watched in fascination, it was his favourite aspect of edging a partner. The way they just lost themselves into it, even knowing it would be denied. It was pure _instinct_. It was delicious. Stiles was taking it beautifully. The thin layer of sweat covering his body, the high pulse of his blood, the ragged breaths. Everything about him was intoxicating.

Stiles let out a sob of despair when Peter moved his hand away, the boy still thrusting up into the air.

“Just breathe sweetheart,” Peter said, rubbing Stiles’ thigh gently. “That’s it, you’re doing so well for me. Just a little longer. Can you do that?”

Stiles shook his head, his eyes closed tight as he tried to catch his breath.

“That’s a shame, maybe I should leave you here for a bit until you calm down,” Peter suggested lightly, having no intention of doing such a thing.

“No!” Stiles said loudly, his eyes snapping open as he lifted his head off the bed.

“Calm,” Peter soothed. “I’m not leaving you,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Fuck,” he groaned, letting his head thud back against the mattress. “Please let me cum?” Stiles whimpered.

“Very soon darling,” Peter promised. “Let’s just wait for your body to calm down just a little more.”

“No,” Stiles groaned, tightening his hands to remind himself not to move them. “I’ll – I’ll do it myself,” he tried to threaten.

“You will?” Peter asked lightly. “I better put a stop to that threat then. How about this? If you cum before I say you can, then there will be a week without cumming. Is that enough of a promise to stop you being greedy?”

“That isn’t fair,” Stiles whined, sending Peter an unhappy look.

“It really isn’t sweetheart,” Peter pointed out, moving his hand loosely around Stiles’ cock once again. “This is all because you were disrespectful,” he added, moving his hand lazily, nowhere near enough to let Stiles build up to his orgasm again. “I’ll make you a deal baby,” Peter said gently. He reached forward, brushing Stiles’ hair away from his face as he took hold of the boy’s wrists, prying them gently from the headboard.

“Up you get,” Peter murmured, pulling Stiles until he was sitting. Peter moved next to him, sitting back against the headboard as he pulled Stiles across to straddle him. He didn’t bother to hold back the amused huff when Stiles groaned at the movement. Peter pushed his jogging bottoms down, reaching for the bottle of lube once again.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles groaned, leaning forward as Peter smeared the lube over his cock. “Do I get that?” he asked breathlessly, and Peter knew without seeing it that he had a teasing smile on his face.

“If you’re a good boy,” Peter whispered into his ear. “The only way you’re going to get to cum is on my cock, and if you want it that badly, you’re going to have to do the work.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles repeated. “Yes – yeah, I can do that.”

“Good,” Peter hummed, his free hand moving back onto Stiles’ hip as he lifted the boy slightly. “Ready?”

Stiles nodded, mouthing at Peter’s shoulder when he was lowered, his groan muffled.

“Fuck, you’re so _big_ ,” Stiles huffed, the words soft and slurred. “I’m close,” he added, his hand moving to the space between him and Peter to rub at his cock.

“Uh uh,” Peter chuckled breathlessly. “Who said you could touch?”

“Dude!” Stiles groaned, pulling back enough to see Peter. “I need _something_.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Peter chastised, hitting Stiles’ ass lightly. “You need to make it worth my while before anyone touches that pretty cock again. Understood?” Stiles nodded, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “Get rid of that look, otherwise you won’t be cumming at all.”

“I’m sorry daddy,” Stiles said, smoothing his face into a small smile. “I – can I _move_?”

Peter just raised an eyebrow, not bothering to point out that Stiles had just moved in the process of asking. He nodded slightly, his hands on both of Stiles’ hips to steady him, and slow him if the need arose.

Stiles’ movements were jerky, uncoordinated, and evident of just how little practice he had. It was endearing to watch the concentration on his face as he huffed and fought back his own moans, wanting to stick to the task given.

“Relax,” Peter found himself muttering, rubbing his thumbs over the boy’s hips. “Wrap a hand around your cock and I’ll help you,” he offered, grinning as Stiles instantly did as suggested.

Stiles’ head once again found a place on Peter’s shoulder as he was raised and lowered, Peter quickening the pace that Stiles was being fucked. The moans from Stiles had begun once again, growing in volume as they got deeper.

“I – I –” Stiles was quickly beyond the point of talking, his breath loud as he exhaled, body shaking.

“Almost there darling,” Peter promised, speeding Stiles’ movements up. “You can cum baby,” he grunted, his own arousal pooling to the point of demanding attention as Stiles tightened around him.

Stiles fell limp with a sob, his body continuing to shake as Peter thrust up to meet the movements he had been controlling. As Stiles shook in his own afterglow, Peter continued to groan. Moving Stiles’ body slightly faster, Stiles groaned weakly, turning his head into Peter’s neck. The boy pressed a gentle kiss to the space of skin before biting down weakly, shivering at the low growl Peter made as his hips stuttered. Stiles groaned, feeling Peter’s orgasm sending its own shockwave through his body.

Neither spoke. Neither moved. Peter buried his face in Stiles’ neck as Stiles continued to breathe against Peter’s.

“That was an interesting reaction,” Stiles mumbled.

“You’re the one that bit a werewolf darling,” Peter pointed out.

“You have too many clothes,” Stiles frowned, pulling Peter’s t-shirt up and worming his hands underneath. He whined when Peter gently rolled him onto the bed. Before he could complain even more, Peter had removed his own top and pushed his jogging bottoms down more.

“That I approve,” Stiles grinned as Peter wiped the mess that Stiles had made with his top.

“Brat,” Peter huffed, throwing the t-shirt across the room. He then laid down and pulled Stiles back towards him, letting the boy burrow into his side.

“That was good, intense, but good,” Stiles offered, a small content sound leaving him when Peter ran a hand down his back.

“Just relax for now,” Peter said gently.

“Ok Daddy,” Stiles laughed, letting himself sink against Peter even more.


	29. Chris Has A Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, and for some reason, this was super hard to write (heck, writing, in general, has been super hard lately and it's annoying. I'm really hoping this is the start of the increase in writing again).

Chris ran a hand down his face, he couldn't stop replaying Stiles’ shocked gasp as he had pulled the younger man closer. How Stiles had sunken into the kiss and let Chris lead it. How his shirt still showed where Stiles had grasped fistfuls of it until Peter had pulled him back. He couldn't even get Peter's forcefully bored expression out of his mind. He had acted bored, but his eyes had told a different tale, it was barely there, the slight glint and the barest crinkle of amusement as they had locked eyes. Peter knew exactly what he was doing and Chris knew he was falling for whatever plot was in place.

Shaking his head, Chris refused to linger in his thoughts, he had come round with a purpose and it wasn't to spend the day watching sharks, or to kiss an underage boy. Chris had a moment where he accepted how likely it was that he was going to hell, even if he had a brief thought of how it wouldn't be so bad with Stiles around and his small gasps - but he quickly pushed that thought away.

There were things that needed to be done, things that required his attention more than Stiles and Peter. He had already managed to stop at Lydia’s house, after the school day had finished – _he refused to consider the fact he knew Stiles had not been in attendance today_. It was almost amusing to see Lydia’s shock when he had explained that he was collecting Stiles’ belongings. She had expected Stiles or even Peter to be the ones to get them, not Chris. In a sense, Chris would have preferred not to have that contact with the young woman, she had been close to Allison.

The Sheriff’s car sat in the driveway, taunting Chris with just how unlikely it was that he could turn around and ignore this idea. No doubt the man had noticed the car outside his house. Steeling himself for a rough talk, Chris climbed out of his car, leaving Stiles’ belongings all packed away as he made his way to the door.

The door was opened before Chris had fully reached it. The Sheriff stood, a hand on the door and the other at the gun in its holster as he stared at Chris with a thin mouth.

“Where is my son?” he demanded.

“He’s safe,” Chris assured the man, fully aware of how unsatisfying that response was. “Do you mind if we have a chat,” he added with a pleasant tone.

“I don’t trust you,” John said firmly, his eyes still on Chris as he observed the hunter. Chris just inclined his head in the smallest of nods, accepting the other man’s words without offering any excuses.

“Stiles is safe, he is with an adult –” even if he hated acknowledging how responsible Peter had been acting. “I thought we could discuss yesterday, from what I’ve been told, you didn’t exactly listen to what Stiles had to say,” he didn’t intend for it to be as _pretentious_ as it came out. Perhaps Chris had been around Peter too often.

“Come in,” John said stiffly.

Chris followed John with curious eyes. He closed the front door behind him, following the path to the dining table. There was a moment where Chris noticed the bottle of whisky on the table, no glass around it as John sat in one of the chairs.

“Are you involved with my son?” the Sheriff asked first, not letting Chris have a chance to start the conversation as he wanted to.

“I am not,” Chris said calmly. “He is involved with someone else,” he admitted. “But that it between them, and I am not going to interfere unless I believe it is necessary. They both are aware of how important consent –”

“He is underage,” John hissed, his eyes narrowing.

“Stiles is young,” Chris agreed. “I agree that in an ideal world, it wouldn’t be –”

“An ideal world?” John snapped.

“Listen,” Chris said firmly. “Stiles has dealt with a lot. He is more mature than many of his peers and I respect his choices. After everything, it is the least we can do. If he wants what he has and he feels _safe_ with it, who are we to step in?” Chris asked. “Who else has he had lately that has made him feel safe?”

“Scott –”

“Scott stood by as Stiles was threatened,” Chris cut in, his annoyance building. He refused to let this man believe what he wanted. “Scott has done nothing to make Stiles feel safe. He broke into this house and took everything related to the supernatural and then he let his friend hurt him because Stiles suggested dealing with a threat. Stiles has every right to press charges but he won’t, and that is probably because of you,” he pointed out.

Chris saw the moment John had truly started to listen, the man had froze and his gaze on Chris turned less heated.

“Scott actually stole…” John trailed off, looking away from Chris as he frowned to himself.

“I currently have Stiles’ belongings,” Chris explained. “I was going to leave them here but I think that the current events prove I shouldn’t,” he said calmly. “I’ll ask Stiles where he would prefer them but until he is ok with it, I am not leaving them somewhere that has been compromised and doesn’t feel safe to him.”

“Is he ok?” John asked.

Chris took a second to consider just how to answer that question. He had said many times that Stiles was safe, but that didn’t mean _ok_. Was Stiles ok? Was there any chance of him being ok after what had happened? Sure, he had Peter to fall back onto but that wasn’t enough for him to be _ok_.

“He’s strong,” Chris said. “There is very little that he could face that would truly break him.”

“That wasn’t an answer,” John pointed out bitterly.

“I cannot read minds,” Chris pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “He is somewhere that he feels safe and that he is being cared for. If he isn’t currently ok, he will be.”

“Good,” John said with a nod. The fight seemed to have left the man. “He said I didn’t care,” John admitted.

“Maybe he has reason to believe that,” Chris pointed out gently. He knew that it must be hard, he couldn’t even fathom Allison having said that to him.

“Just – try and get him to go to school. I can only cover so much,” John sighed. “I need to talk to Scott –”

“You should talk to Stiles,” Chris pointed out dryly.

“He’s angry,” John explained. “Forcing him to talk won’t work. Not yet. How can I make the house safe?” he asked, turning back to Chris, a slightly desperate look in his eyes.

Chris sighed, he hadn’t expected this. He had expected a fight, something to prove that the Sheriff had been completely wrong and unwilling to change. In a way, this was better, more positive. It did mean that Chris would have a long day of explaining how John could werewolf-proof the house, how to hide the traces of mountain ash, and how to recognise when those safety nets were tampered with, but it was a start. It showed that John wanted to make it up to Stiles.


	30. Use Mine

Peter groaned as Stiles threw himself against his back. The younger man clung to him, arms moving to wrap around Peter’s neck as he hiked his legs up around his waist.

“You’re chipper,” Peter deadpanned, he reached back to steady Stiles, holding onto his legs. “How was school?”

“Pointless,” Stiles hugged, nudging Peter’s head with his own. “Don’t let me fall chip,” he added when Peter had taken a step backwards.

“I’m not going to drop you,” Peter huffed, rolling his eyes. He was shocked that Stiles had jumped on him, Stiles did have a habit of surprising him when he wanted to. He had a passing moment of realisation about just how much Stiles meant to him and how he should prepare for surprises.

“Hey,” Stiles said softly, a touch of hesitation souring his scent. “If I wanted to get a few things, would you be ok with them coming here?”

“Depends on what they are,” Peter mused, making his way over to the couch slowly, taking care not to jostle Stiles too much.

“Just some stuff I don’t want going home,” Stiles said honestly. “I’d rather my dad not find them and ask awkward questions.”

“So you’d rather me find them and ask questions?” Peter smirked.

“Nah man,” Stiles laughed. “What I’m thinking will be question free.”

“Down,” Peter huffed, squeezing Stiles’ legs for a brief second before letting them go.

“I’m comfy here,” Stiles moaned. “Let me stay?”

“Stiles,” Peter warned, his voice lowering slightly. “Down,” he repeated, the hint of command making Stiles momentarily tighten his grip before relaxing it. He unhooked his legs, slightly thankful for not having to hold himself up as he placed his feet on the ground. With a small grin, he kept his arms around Peter’s neck.

“You are not a monkey,” Peter sighed. “Release me.”

“But daddy!” Stiles whined, he moved his head to Peter’s shoulder, nuzzling into the cardigan that the man wore. “I want to touch.”

“Stiles,” Peter warned.

With a huff, Stiles let go of Peter and sat on the couch with a bounce, looking up with a pout.

“Mean,” he said when Peter didn’t respond to the pout.

“Stay,” Peter warned.

“What am I, a dog?” Stiles huffed.

“If you want to be my dog darling, then all you have to do is ask,” Peter said as he left Stiles alone in the room.

“Peter!” Stiles called. “Peter! Don’t leave me! Come back! I’m lonely! This is an unfair punishment!” he added, a frown settling on his face the longer Peter was gone.

Stiles considered standing, he could have just followed Peter. He wanted to follow Peter, but he was told to stay. Whilst debating his urge to follow Peter, Stiles pulled his legs up onto the couch, wiggling his sock-covered toes against the cushion.

The silence stretched, wrapping around Stiles and draining his positive mood away. The day crept up and snuck back into Stiles’ thoughts. The stares, the whispers, and the dread.

“Peter,” Stiles said, his voice quiet as he watched the door for the returning figure. He wanted Peter back, it was calmer when Peter was around. Stiles felt better. He could feel the silence beating against him.

“Calm,” Peter scolded gently, appearing in the doorway with his laptop in hand. “You are rather bratty today,” he pointed out.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, the quietness still in his voice.

Peter sighed softly, setting the laptop down before sitting on Stiles’ left side.

“You don't need to apologise for something so small,” Peter pointed out, pulling Stiles towards him. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing -” Stiles cut himself off. “It was just a long day. Nothing really happened,” he admitted. “I was just waiting for it. Dad was outside when I left school as well, I didn't want to face him so I hid. Scott kept watching me as well.”

Peter hummed as he rubbed a hand over Stiles’ shoulder.

“I was just waiting, it felt like something would happen and dad would drag me out of class, or Scott would try and yell at me again, or - or Lydia and Malia would realise that I'm not worth it,” Stiles confessed. “I don't like this, I don't like feeling bad.”

“No one likes feeling bad baby,” Peter said softly. “Christopher had a chat with your father, nothing bad, but he thinks progress was made in your favour,” sickeningly enough, Peter and Chris had been communicating a lot more, mainly due to Stiles. “As for the two ladies, they were smart enough to realise Scott was an idiot, they won't leave you without a good reason and your worth is not something they think so little of,” he added, moving his hand to Stiles’ head and running his fingers through the soft hair. “I am still available to hurt Scott if you feel it is necessary.”

“No hurting anyone,” Stiles said half-heartedly. There was a minute where Stiles just lost himself to Peter's gentle touches. “Thank you,” he finally said quietly.

“Next time don't hide,” Peter said lightly. “We face the troubles as soon as we can. No letting them grow larger than they should be.”

Stiles nodded slowly.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked.

“Stupid,” Stiles said honestly.

“You are far from it dear,” Peter chuckled. “The best of us get caught in our minds sometimes. Now, tell me more about the deviously naughty things you're going to get yourself.” Peter grinned widely as he felt the heat pour from Stiles. “Come on baby boy, tell me,” he purred.

“It's - it's nothing,” Stiles stammered. “Nothing important anyway. Just - just something I wanted to try.”

“Do tell,” Peter promoted when Stiles stopped.

“It's silly,” Stiles frowned, only to yelp when Peter tapped his ass.

“What did I say about calling yourself names?”

“Not to do it,” Stiles mumbled.

“There you go,” Peter said, he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead before standing. “Go on,” Peter prompted, waving a hand over to the laptop. “I’ll finish cooking and you order what you wanted to.”

“Dude,” Stiles said, his smile falling for a second. “It can wait. I wasn’t going to do anything until tomorrow. I need to head home first to get my card,” he pointed out.

Peter stared at Stiles for a long moment, an eyebrow raised as he debated something unknown to the younger party. Stiles shifted under Peter’s gaze, unsure of just what he was meant to do. He had honestly expected Peter to make him wait and ask more before letting him use the man’s address.

“Here,” Peter finally said, he picked up his wallet from the table and threw it over to Stiles. “The red card. Don’t go over $100.”

“What?” Stiles asked, catching the flying object without a thought. Surprised, he stared between the wallet in his hand and Peter’s face.

“Use the red card, no more than $100, understand?” Peter sighed.

“This – no,” Stiles frowned. “I’m not – I wasn’t –”

“I know sweetheart,” Peter pointed out. “I’m offering, think of it as an earlier birthday present if you need to.”

“But –”

“Stiles,” Peter said gently. “Just use it.”

Stiles glanced down at his hands, he frowned again. He put the wallet on the couch next to him before standing up and moving over to Peter.

“You don’t have to,” Stiles said firmly. “I can – Jesus, I didn’t expect you,” Stiles broke off with a sigh. He glanced over to Peter with a glare. “What is this?”

“Stiles,” Peter said with his own sigh. “I have money that I will not use –”

“That doesn’t mean –”

“Let me finish,” Peter said sternly, stopping Stiles’ babbled protest. “Even without the savings I kept before the fire, I would be able to spare that much money,” Peter lifted Stiles’ head slightly, his thumb brushing over his cheek. “You don’t have to use it, but it is there if you want it. Especially, if as I suspect, you are planning something I will find delightful. I am more than happy to put something towards it.”

“But it – _why_?” Stiles frowned, leaning into Peter’s touch.

“Why?” Peter repeated. “Maybe because I like seeing you happy,” he suggested. “Maybe because I am curious about what your brilliant mind wants that you cannot send home. Perhaps,” Peter continued, his voice quietening. “I just want to spoil you a little, and you using your own funds defeats that purpose.”

Stiles searched Peter’s face for a second before nodding.

“This once,” he said. “As a birthday present,” he added. “So, no present on my birthday,” he pointed out, aiming for a stern tone, even though he knew it came out weak. Of course, Peter had no plans on sticking to that agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this turned out more filler-y than I planned, but it's important I swear! I have some very nice plans coming up, very very nice ones. Not too sure when they'll happen but it involves what Stiles is going to buy!


	31. Blindfold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations on being an adult today!!! Plus any other day you manage it! It can be horrible but we manage! I am super proud of every single one of you ^_^

“So, darling, do I get to know what you bought?” Peter waited until he had Stiles laid underneath him, until the food was gone and Stiles had finished whatever work he had from school. He had Stiles spread beneath him, hands held above his head as Peter’s lips explored his neck.

“No – _ahh_ – not yet,” Stiles groaned.

“Not yet?” Peter asked, he moved Stiles’ wrists together until he could hold them both in one hand. His now free hand made its way to Stiles’ shirt, slowly undoing each button as his mouth moved from Stiles’ neck to his collar bones. Peter let out a content hum as Stiles whimpered beneath him, his hips rising from the bed. “Keep your ass on the bed unless you want me to tie you up sweetheart,” Peter said softly against Stiles’ skin.

“ _Fuck_ ,” the boy groaned. He threw his head back, pressing his ass against the bed in an attempt to combat the urge to rock up into the space on the chance Peter was within touching distance. “Please?”

Rather than answer, Peter pulled back. He pressed Stiles’ hands against the mattress slightly more before removing his own. The wordless hint to keep them there was followed as Stiles watched Peter climb off the bed hungrily. He watched as Peter made his way over to the chest of drawers, opening the top drawer and pulling two ties from it.

“Remind me,” Peter said in a casual tone. “How do you feel about being blindfolded?”

“Super good,” Stiles grinned, meeting Peter’s eyes.

“Your hands being tied together?” Peter asked, this time Stiles didn’t respond verbally, settling to nod vigorously as Peter came back. “Good, I want to do both,” Peter said gently. “Sit up please baby.”

With a positively lewd grin, Stiles pushed himself up until he was sitting. He bounced his leg against the mattress as Peter was once again in reaching distance, but he didn’t dare reach out for the man, knowing that they were on the edge of starting something new.

“Shirt off sweetheart,” Peter smirked, as expected, Stiles moved as fast as he could to remove the article of clothing until he was bare-chested and looking up to Peter with that expectant and excited expression. “Very good,” Peter praised, “Hands,” he prompted, one of his own hands waiting for Stiles.

Stiles licked his lips, both wrists offered to Peter. He shivered when the wolf took one in his hand before using the other to wrap the _soft_ tie around it. Peter handled his wrists with care, pulling the tie snug but not too tight. Once he was wrapped securely, Peter brought his bound hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to each palm.

“Too tight?” Peter asked.

“No,” Stiles said quietly, an indulgent smile on his face as he met Peter’s _open_ expression. It was one of the only times Stiles had seen Peter without a mask, he could see the gentleness, the caring and more. It was a lot, and Stiles felt honoured to see it, to know that Peter didn’t feel the need to cover himself.

“Stay with me sweetheart, don’t get lost in those thoughts,” Peter chuckled, watching the blush dust Stiles’ cheeks. “Now, your eyes I think. It is a shame to hide them,” Peter mused, more to himself than to Stiles. “They’re so expressive, it’s almost a crime to cover them up,” he held the final tie up, “ready?”

Stiles licked his lips and nodded again.

“Words baby,” Peter chastised lightly.

“I’m ready,” Stiles said, his voice still quiet, but loud enough for Peter to feel comfortable. “Please Daddy?” Stiles continued.

Peter nodded, gently placing the tie over Stiles’ eyes before tying it behind his head. He leant forward and pressed a kiss on Stiles’ lips, spoiling himself as he laid the younger man down on the bed again. Pulling back, Peter let himself just observe Stiles. See the way that the dotted chest rose and fell, how the pink lips were parted ever so slightly. Lifting the bound wrists, Peter once again pressed them against the mattress above Stiles’ head, slowly trailing his hand down one arm.

Stiles shivered under Peter’s light touch, his breath quickening slightly. Peter rested a hand gently on Stiles’ stomach, frowning as Stiles flinched back slightly.

“I’m here baby boy,” Peter said softly, wanting the sourness to disappear. “Focus on my voice and breathe for me,” he murmured. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. We can stop, if you need a break just say so, I’m not going to push you,” he added. “We can get rid of one or both of these if you want.”

“It’s ok,” Stiles said, but Peter could hear the slight tremor in his tone.

“Talk to me Stiles,” Peter said gently. “Don't push through this if you aren't comfortable.”

“I - it's just that I can't _see_ ,” Stiles said, stressing the word. “It's silly.”

“It isn't darling, you are constantly observing everything around you, to not have that, it leaves you vulnerable,” Peter pointed out. “We can take the blindfold off,” he offered. “Try it another time, or even work up to it if you still want to try it. We can start with you keeping your eyes closed, that way you can open them if you want to.”

“No,” Stiles said stubbornly, “we’re doing this.”

“Not unless I'm sure you aren't making yourself uncomfortable,” Peter said firmly. “This should be enjoyable, and stress isn't enjoyable darling.”

“Please,” Stiles said softly. “I want to try it, I'll say something if I don't feel better,” he promised.

Peter watched Stiles for a second, the anxiety was still there, but talking had seemed to help somewhat. He didn't feel completely comfortable, but he knew how stubborn Stiles was when he wanted to be. It wasn't ideal, he really shouldn't let Stiles get into the habit of pushing himself.

“Ok,” Peter mumbled. “I will put a stop to this if you don't and you aren't relaxing. I'm not putting you through more stress. Understood?”

“Thank you,” Stiles said, exhaling slowly afterwards. “I promise - I'll stop you if -”

“I trust you,” Peter hummed, he smiled at Stiles’ jerky nod. “Good boy. Now, would it be better if I told you what I was doing? Or would you rather me stay quiet?” Peter asked, already knowing which he would rather, especially after Stiles’ hesitation to stop.

“Talk please,” Stiles requested, “I - I want to hear you,” he added softly, the flush back on his cheeks.

“That's good baby,” Peter hummed, letting his hand move to the button of Stiles’ jeans. “You have no idea just how pretty you look laid here, being so nice and patient.”

Stiles whined quietly, his head turning towards his arm.

“Even without seeing, you try to hide,” Peter tutted, it was more playful than anything else. “It really is a shame, the pink does wonders, you look so stunning when you blush.”

“Stop,” Stiles mumbled against his arm.

“Hush now,” Peter said as he hit Stiles’ jean clad thigh. “I'm more than allowed to tell my darling how much I like him, or are you just that impatient?”

“I - that's not fair,” Stiles whined.

“Answer,” Peter promoted, undoing Stiles’ jeans and pulling them down slowly. It wasn't a terribly difficult thing to do, even as Stiles squirmed on the bed.

“I'm not impatient,” Stiles huffed, and Peter knew that the boy had rolled his eyes.

“You are,” Peter chuckled. “I am curious as to just how long you'd last,” he pulled the socks from Stiles’ feet.

“I am a saint,” Stiles said, his lips forming a pout.

“A saint?” Peter repeated with an amused smirk. “Darling, you are far from it.”

“Mean,” Stiles huffed, even though the smile he wore betrayed him. Peter leant closer, capturing Stiles’ lips once again, stopping any further claims of sainthood.

“You taste amazing,” Peter cooed, pulling back from the kiss and watching Stiles recapture his breath.

“Only because you fed me,” Stiles grumbled. “I taste like food.”

“The temptation to gag you,” Peter chuckled, shaking his head. “You do taste good enough to eat, I suppose my culinary skills are partly to praise, but a lot of it is just you.”

“Creeper,” Stiles said with a smile. “Can - can we take the blindfold off? I'd just - I want to see you.”

“Of course,” Peter said gently, he reached forward and pulled on the tie, grinning when it came undone and revealed Stiles’ whisky eyes to him. “There's my pretty boy. Is this a no on blindfolds?”

“I don't like not seeing,” Stiles admitted.

“I thought as much,” Peter hummed, he pressed a quick peck to Stiles' lips before pulling the loose tie completely free. He brought it to Stiles’ bound wrists and wrapped it around the boy's hands, not tying but enough that Stiles could grasp onto the tie. “Keep hold of this for me, you're doing so well with keeping your hands right there,” he praised, more than happy to see Stiles watching him with pupils blown wide.

“Peter,” Stiles whined, his body wriggling beneath him. “ _Daddy_ , please.”

Peter hummed again, his eyes closed as he mentally replayed that one sentence again. The high pitched beg. Even without the visual of Stiles squirming, it was as close to heaven as Peter thought he'd get.

“I could leave you just like this,” Peter suggested, his eyes opening to meet Stiles’ worried ones. “You have school tomorrow sweetheart, you need your sleep.”

“Don't you fucking dare,” Stiles hissed, his own eyes narrowing as he missed the teasing tone. He did, however, catch Peter's steely look.

“Careful baby boy,” Peter said, the softness that normally hid under his tone disappearing. “I won't be spoken to like that, this is your only warning. If you want something you ask nicely,” he said, slipping into a growl.

“I'm sorry Daddy,” Stiles said softly, unable to bring himself to meet Peter's blue eyes. “Just don't want you to leave me,” he added.

“I know darling,” Peter said gently, stroking Stiles’ cheek gently. “How about this,” he offered, Peter leant forward, taking Stiles’ bound hands in his own and pulling them forward until they were resting on Stiles’ stomach. “I want you to touch yourself, don’t let go of the tie though,” he said, releasing Stiles’ hand and dipping his fingers under the waistband of Stiles’ boxers. “Sound good?”

Stiles nodded, watching Peter with baited breath as the man pulled his boxers down.

“Please?” Stiles asked. “I’ll be good, just – I need you,” he mumbled.

“Go on, I’m not stopping you,” Peter said, nodding towards Stiles’ hard cock. “Unless you want to sleep now.”

“I want _you_ ,” Stiles huffed.

“You were very rude to me sweetheart,” Peter pointed out. “Either you get your own hand or we settle to sleep.”

Stiles glared at Peter for a second, keeping the man’s gaze before he lowered his eyes. It was fair, he supposed. He moved his hands down further, the tie around his palms brushing against his cock, causing a soft gasp to escape.

“Haven’t experimented with different textures?” Peter asked, not entirely expecting an answer as Stiles managed to wrap one hand around himself, moving it slowly. The boy kept his eyes on his cock, on his hand and the tie that was oh-so-soft against him. Peter watched as Stiles lost himself in the action, sticking to a slow pace, undoubtedly realising just how different it felt with that small layer of silk. It was enchanting to watch, every time Stiles found himself closing his eyes, he would snap them back open, staring in wonder down his body.

“Pe – _Daddy_ ,” Stiles whimpered, his hips lifting to meet each stroke of his hand. “I – I want to cum.”

“Good,” Peter smirked. “It seems you did learn something the other day. Go on baby, whenever you need to.”

If just watching Stiles touch himself was enchanting, this was even more so. Peter knew that the smell wouldn’t leave the tie, not until it had been washed several times, and he revelled in that fact. Stiles had kept his hand still wrapped around himself after his orgasm, holding onto his softening cock. The quiet noise of protest he made when Peter carefully pried his hand away was something akin to music.

“Let’s get this off,” Peter murmured, unwrapping the soiled tie from Stiles’ hands before undoing the knot around his wrists. “You did so well sweetheart, that was lovely.”

“Cuddle?” Stiles said, a faint smile on his face as he watched Peter rub his wrists.

“If you want to,” Peter replied, climbing next to Stiles and gathering him up in his arms.

“You didn’t –”

“It’s ok sweetheart,” Peter chuckled. “The show was good enough to just watch. You can make it up to me later if you’d like.”

Stiles nodded, letting Peter pull him closer and nuzzle into his hair.


	32. Losing A Friend

“What did you tell my mom?”

Stiles once again found himself with his back against the wall. However, unlike the last time, there were a few changes. First, Stiles found himself looking solely into Scott’s eyes rather than Theo’s. Second, it wasn’t a public setting. Sure, Stiles was still at school, but there were no others viewable from his position. Thirdly, Stiles held no sympathy for whatever Scott wanted. The last time he was in this situation, he had been more open to Scott’s apology, to hearing what his friend had to say. Now, Stiles wanted nothing more to do with him.

“Get the fuck off me,” Stiles hissed as a response, pushing Scott’s chest even though it would make no difference.

“What did you say to her?” Scott snapped. “You stay away from her.”

“I haven’t even seen her you jackass!” Stiles said loudly, having had enough ten minutes ago.

“She said –”

“I don’t care what she said,” Stiles huffed. “I. Haven’t. Spoken. To. Your. Mother,” he added, speaking slowly and clearly as he glared at his former friend.

“How did she knew that we –”

“I swear to God McCall, if you don’t step back I will hurt you,” Stiles threatened, thanking the small of part Scott that he wasn’t angry with when the boy had stepped back. “Great, now explain whatever it is you’re accusing me of this time,” he snapped, glad that the tone made Scott flinch back.

“Mom yelled at me,” Scott said, trying to hold onto his own threatening stance rather than the timid boy that his mother tends to evoke in him. “She knows that we fought and she didn’t listen –”

“She didn’t listen to _you_ ,” Stiles guess, the sick amusement in place. Of course, Scott would be upset that his family hadn’t listened to him. Family were meant to stick together after all, “sucks, doesn’t it?” he asked more rhetorically. “When people you class as family don’t believe a word you say,” he added at Scott’s slightly confused look. “Sheriff took your side,” he explained blankly, not wanting to show Scott just how much that had affected him. How much it hurt to have his own father prefer another person than his own son. “Didn’t believe a thing I said, but then, he never did, so it should be a surprise,” Stiles shrugged. “I’m just glad someone in your family has sense.”

“What did you say to her –”

“I told you I haven’t spoken to her!” Stiles said loudly. “For fuck sake. I don’t even want to _see_ you. God, I trusted you Scott,” he said, that last sentence baring more emotion than he had intended. It had been painful for his friend – his _brother_ to leave.

“We can fix this,” Scott said, watching Stiles closely. “We just need to get whatever is in you, out –”

“You don’t get it!” Stiles snapped, taking, even more, joy from Scott’s widened eyes and step back. “I am not possessed! It’s fucked up that two people who _should_ hate me – they trust me more than people I thought of as family.”

“Stiles, this isn’t you,” Scott said gently, seeming to want to appeal to Stiles’ human side.

“Why?” Stiles asked, his eyes tracking any change in Scott’s expression. “Because I’m not following you? Because I’m not doing what _you_ want? Who cares if I wanted someone dead? You didn’t complain when it was Peter.”

“Peter isn’t –”

“He was dead,” Stiles interrupted. “You were happy to kill him yourself. What if the witch held the key to being human again?” Stiles sneered. “You’d be more than happy to kill them then.”

“That isn’t –”

Stiles just shook his head, ignoring Scott’s pitiful explanations. They weren’t anything that he hadn’t heard before.

“Just –” Stiles closed his eyes for a brief moment, exhaling harshly through his mouth. “Leave me alone,” he requested. “I’ll – we both leave each other alone,” he added, meeting Scott’s eyes again. “You make the righteous choices and I’ll only get involved if something targets me. Everyone’s happy,” he added. If Scott agreed, maybe the claims of possession would stop.

“Stiles wouldn’t suggest that,” Scott said firmly.

“I am Stiles!” Stiles snapped. “You – you can’t get your head out of your own ass! Leave me alone or next time I’ll make sure I have a weapon to use against you.”

“Stiles wouldn’t let you hurt me,” Scott said, overly sure of himself. The pure cockiness in his voice made Stiles pause for a second. It hit then, just how much they had drifted. Even as children, Stiles had no problem telling Scott when he made a mistake, or when he was angry. They had been so close because of how much they shared with each other. Perhaps it was Stiles that changed, Scott was still so much of that self-confident child, the one that managed to be himself around all the problems of youth.

“I wouldn’t enjoy it,” Stiles said honestly as he shook his head. It would hurt, especially if he had to truly hurt Scott. “I am not going to let you harass me,” he finished.

Scott hadn’t even put up a fight as Stiles passed him. He didn’t say anything, nor did he reach out. It broke what was left of Stiles’ heart. His best friend wasn’t his best friend anymore. Scott and him were not compatible, not at all. There was no way that things would change, there would always be something between them. Scott’s werewolfism was the turning point and wasn’t that just another punch.

“You ok?” Malia asked. It wasn’t even a shock to Stiles that she was waiting just out of sight. In the absence of Scott, Malia and Lydia had been his saving grace. They had been there for him, keeping him around when everyone else didn’t.

“I want to go home,” Stiles admitted, letting Malia link her arm with his as they continued to walk.

“Have you even been home lately?” Malia asked, her nose wrinkled as she glanced over. “You smell like Peter.”

“I’ve been staying with him,” Stiles shrugged.

“Sleeping with him,” Malia added.

“I like him,” Stiles said, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

“Where are we sneaking off to?” Lydia asked, making Stiles jump as she appeared from around the corner. There was a devilish smirk on her pink lips as she observed the linked two.

“No sneaking Ma’am,” Stiles chuckled. “Just getting away from Preachy-McGee.”

Lydia just looked on, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Hey Lyds,” Stiles said gently, the small smile still on his face as he met Lydia’s eyes. “Feel up to getting coffee? My treat,” he added, squeezing Malia’s arm with his own to let her know that she was included as well.

“Your treat?” Lydia repeated, amused. “Payday, is it?”

“More that I didn’t have to spend my money I was saving on something because – _holy crap_ ,” he finished breathily. The reality of yesterday hitting him. “Um – anyway, I have money, so treat?”

“Because why?” Lydia asked, her eyes shining in mirth. “What happened?”

“Ah, well, Peter offered to buy me the thing so –”

“Peter _offered_?” Lydia repeated.

“It was nothing,” Stiles shrugged.

“Sugar Daddy?” she asked.

“No!” Stiles squeaked, his cheeks pinkening. “Early present.”

“You believed that?” Malia asked in a bewildered tone. “Even _I_ know that is a lie.”

“It doesn’t matter, now do you want coffee?” Stiles groaned, knowing that his face was pink and Lydia and Malia were exchanging looks out of eyeshot.

“Sure,” Malia said smoothly, “Lyds will be happy to join us. We can hear all about why Peter bought you something this far away from your birthday.”

“No,” Stiles groaned.

“What was it?” Lydia asked.

“Nothing,” Stiles huffed, knowing it was a losing battle as he saw Lydia smirk.

“You are red,” she pointed out. “Sexy?”

“Maybe,” Stiles admitted. “Just something I wanted to try.”

“Tell us more,” Malia grinned, pulling Stiles towards the parking lot. “We have lots to learn.”

“It’s nothing,” Stiles tried again, but even to himself it was weak.

“Wait until we’re out of hearing range,” Lydia nudged the other girl. “Starbucks?”

“Obviously,” Stiles smiled, the incident with Scott mostly forgotten.

* * *

“Had fun with the girls?” Peter asked when Stiles snuck into the apartment.

“We got coffee,” Stiles smiled, making his way over to Peter, who was sat on the couch. The wolf hadn’t even glanced back when Stiles came closer. With a huff, Stiles leant forward, wrapping his arms around the man.

“I’m trying to read darling,” Peter said, but there was no real protest as he leant back against Stiles. “Your items arrived, next day delivery?”

“Obviously,” Stiles grinned. “I’m going to go get changed,” Stiles said, pressing a kiss to the back of Peter’s neck before stepping away. “Package?” he asked.

“In the kitchen,” Peter said, glancing back. “Less temptation to peak,” he admitted.

“Good,” Stiles said, feeling more confident in what he had bought. Talking to the girls had helped, once they had finally got the truth from Stiles. It had been with a red face that he admitted what he had wanted, and it was only with Lydia’s factual ability and assurance that he didn’t hide as soon as he returned.

As Peter said, there was a small sized box on the counter, sitting so innocently that Stiles couldn’t help the flush returning. Grasping the box, Stiles quickly made his way to Peter’s bedroom. He closed the door quietly behind him before setting the box on the bed. Stiles was sure he could hear his own heart as he slowly opened the box, thankful for the easy opening on it.

A pair of silky red panties laid in the box. They were more see-through than Stiles had expected. They were just as soft as Peter’s tie had been last night, and there were flower patterns over them, being the only parts that weren’t see-through.

Stiles glanced back to the door, half expecting to see Peter stood there. However, upon seeing the closed door once again, Stiles pushed his trousers and boxers down, not wanting to wait any longer before trying the panties on.

His hands shook slightly as he carefully stepped into the underwear, the shaking getting slightly worse as he slide the thin material up his legs. They were soft, so much softer than he had imagined. Glancing down as he adjusted himself, he felt ridiculous. Even Lydia’s words from earlier didn’t help, sure, lots of people enjoyed lingerie but that didn’t mean that everyone did, what if Peter looked at him and thought he looked silly?

Shaking his head, Stiles moved over to the mirror, wanting to see just how silly he looked. He hadn’t quite expected the view looking back at him. The panties were hidden by his top, just the smallest hint of red showing underneath, _teasing_. Turning, Stiles looked at his back, once again, seeing the teasing hint of red. Leaning forward slowly, he lifted his top slightly. Silly didn’t fit. From the back, the view was _nice_. The see-through material and the bright red worked well against his skin and the swell of his ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the end is more of a 'we have this to look forward to Peter finding in the next part'


	33. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest and say I'm not too keen on how this one ended, but it's better than I first wrote it. So, I apologise in advance if it's a little disappointing, but it was probably better for them both.

Peter didn’t say anything once Stiles returned, although he did give the boy a curious look.

“What did you do today?” Stiles asked, sitting on the couch next to Peter with a bounce.

“I did work,” Peter huffed with a smile. He let Stiles burrow closer, enjoying the view of his clothes on the boy. “What have you done?” he added, confirming his first suspicion. Stiles’ scent had a hint of spice to it, which hadn’t been there before Stiles had disappeared to change.

“Same old,” Stiles grinned. “Scott did talk to me,” he added, “he was being a hypocrite and annoying me so I basically told him to fuck off.”

“Mm, good boy,” Peter hummed before capturing Stiles’ lips for a small kiss. “Do I get to know what your package was?” he asked, his breath tickling Stiles’ lips.

“Not yet,” Stiles whispered. “Want to just stay here,” he added, his voice stronger as he snuggled back into Peter’s side.

“So clingy,” Peter said with mock annoyance.

“What’s that?” Stiles asked, nodding to the laptop screen when Peter glanced over in a silent question.

“I got back in touch with a friend of mine,” Peter explained quietly, using the touchpad to scroll down the document a little more. “I can’t just take my old contract back, so she agreed to develop a new one.”

“What’s it about?” Stiles asked, his eyes scanning the available information. There wasn’t anything overly explanative, merely an agreement on hours – “Are you going back to work?” Stiles asked.

“I was thinking about helping out at the old place,” Peter agreed. “Sharron had been doing a wonderful job in my absence but an extra pair of hands is always beneficial.”

“What is it you do?”

The document hadn’t explained that. It had stated that Peter wouldn’t be required to work a set number of hours each week, but if possible he would help out on a part-time basis.

“It’s an editing firm,” Peter explained. “Talia and I inherited it and it was more of my passion than hers. I was more than happy to help the common folk.”

“Such a nice guy,” Stiles joked with a grin.

“Indeed baby,” Peter chuckled. “I checked with Sharron after I woke up but there was no guarantee that I'd be able to help, so this is more of a… trivial agreement between us, even if we have to make it somewhat legal. There has to be proof I am sane, it’s only to cover the firm if things were to go wrong.”

“Do you expect it to?”

“Not at all,” Peter grinned. “Which is why I agreed to take on some of the workload.”

“What will you be doing?” Stiles asked as he leant further into Peter, sprawling over the man.

“I’ll need to go over a few things Sharron has been managing, I want to take a look over anyone new that was hired whilst I was away, but then I’ll be overlooking what Sharron does, she is a good person to have in charge and when I am certain things are still working as they should be, I’ll do some of the editing work myself along with making sure it all runs smoothly beyond Sharron’s interference,” Peter said, one hand moving to Stiles’ back to gently rub some of the tension the boy was carrying. “I don’t expect the place to be in such a dire state, but it’s important to check.”

“It is,” Stiles agreed, nodding as he let himself relax.

“Do you have homework?” Peter mused.

“Nothing that can’t wait a day,” Stiles said, poking Peter’s side for the question. “Is it bad to just want a day to relax?” he pouted.

“Not at all darling,” Peter responded promptly. “Your education _is_ important though.”

“Yes dad, I know,” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Attitude,” Peter said half-heartedly.

“Word nerd,” Stiles mumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate fine literature,” Peter chuckled. He moved the laptop away from him as he said it.

“How much of that is because you _inherited_ a firm?” Stiles asked, not fully believing Peter’s words on their own.

“Now, now, dear,” Peter tutted. “I have always found something beautiful in words.”

“Sap,” Stiles grinned.

“Says the one that has become such a little barnacle?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow down at Stiles. The younger male shifted under the teasing gaze, only making Peter’s teasing look shift to curious once again as the spike of arousal hit the air.

Stiles yelped, his hands fisting into Peter’s shirt when the man lifted him and pulled him closer. He let Peter manoeuvre him, so that he was straddling his lap. One hand moved up to Stiles’ hair, pulling slightly to expose the boy’s neck.

“Is there a reason you’re so worked up baby boy?” Peter asked softly, leaning forward slowly enough to savour Stiles’ pulse jumping at the action. “You always smell absolutely divine.”

Stiles’ gasp was like music, the boy’s frantic heartbeat the simple beat that Peter was orchestrating to the best of his ability. The urge to draw more gasps, whimpers, and soft moans to fill the space and act as the lyrics for his own musical show.

“I asked you a question,” Peter reminded, slipping the hand that wasn't wound in Stiles’ hair up underneath his top. “Why are you so excited?”

“ _Ahh_ \- there isn't a reason,” Stiles protested, the skip of his heart betraying him. “ _Fine_ ,” Stiles groaned, his back arching slightly as Peter bit down with blunt teeth. “I'm wearing something.”

Stiles squirmed on top of Peter as the man hummed.

“You didn't stretch yourself, so it isn't a plug,” Peter mused. “You weren’t nearly excited enough to have done anything overly sexual,” he continued, not paying any kind to the small hint of embarrassment Stiles showed as he spoke his thought process whilst scenting Stiles. “Tell me,” Peter said softly, not giving the boy a chance to respond before claiming his mouth once again.

As much as Peter hated the negative emotions tainting what was very much _Stiles_ , he had to admit how nicely the embarrassment enhanced him. Perhaps one day, Peter would see just how far he could push that embarrassment until the richness of Stiles became too overwhelmed by it. That was for another day, one that would need a serious discussion before that _particular_ scenario played out.

Kissing the young boy was quickly becoming one of Peter’s favourite pastimes, the way Stiles would yield to Peter and make such delightfully soft noises that were further muffled by their mouths being pressed together was intoxicating - granted, just about everything about Stiles was intoxicating.

Peter left Stiles’ hair once the boys own hands found Peter’s face and hair. Instead, he continued his obscured exploration of the skin beneath the stolen top. A gentle press was all it took to push Stiles forward, the half hard cock pressing against his stomach, earning a delightful groan once Stiles noticed. The only disappointing factor was that stiles leant back, able to move beyond the reach of Peter's mouth, to breathe heavily.

“Bed?” Stiles asked breathlessly.

“I'm not so sure,” Peter mused, taking on the sight of Stiles, the plump red lips, the glossy eyes, and the heaving chest. “It's only fair I leave you since you still haven't told me just what it is you got.”

Stiles whined, his eyes begging Peter not to leave him.

“Show me,” Peter said quietly, amending his previous request to be told. He tightened his hold on Stiles as the boy wriggled uncomfortably.

“What if you don't like it?” he asked, true hesitation in his tone as he bit his lip.

“Honestly darling, there is very little you could do that I wouldn't enjoy,” Peter smiled. He grasped Stiles a bit more securely before standing, drawing another shocked noise from the boy who held onto him tightly.

It was Stiles who initiated the next kiss with such ferocity that Peter was the one groaning into it, letting the younger man take control as he made his way through his apartment. Luckily, the route to Peter’s bed was fairly simple, one that he was able to do without sight, or the need to feel his surroundings.

Peter dropped Stiles onto the bed, grinning widely as Stiles bounced with wide eyes. If Peter didn't know any better, he might have misjudged Stiles as prey. The hitch in his breath and the fast pace of his heart being that fine blend of fear and arousal, and Peter wanted _more_.

“You needn't have bothered with the clothes,” he pointed out, running his hands up Stiles’ chest, slowly bunching the top up as he did. “It's a crime for you to stay covered, we should make that a rule,” he continued, more to himself than to Stiles.

He didn’t bother pulling the shirt from Stiles’ body, instead, he leant forward, drawing a nipple into his mouth and biting on the small nub until it perked up enough for Peter to rolling his tongue around it. When Peter turned his attention to Stiles’ other nipple, the boy keened, a hand wrapping in Peter’s hair and pulling, trying to get some space between his chest and Peter’s overeager teeth. Following the silent prompt, Peter moved his mouth away from the pinkened flesh, only to make a trail of rough kisses all down Stiles’ front, taking his time to nip and suck on small patches of Stiles’ stomach.

Stiles closed his eyes, continuous moans slipping past his lips as Peter’s mouth explored what else like everywhere possible. He pulled a shaky breath why Peter tugged on the pants he wore, still not entirely confident in how Peter would react. He shivered at the growling grunt that came from Peter, hands tightening even more in Peter's hair when wet warmth covered his hard cock, straining against the thin fabric that did very little to shield him from Peter’s wet mouth.

“This was a wonderful surprise my darling boy,” Peter said gruffly, pulling himself from Stiles and looking up to the boy. There were still soft noises escaping, nothing compared to the high whines that entwined with the breathy moans. Wanting nothing more than to pull the noises back out, Peter reattached his mouth to the bulge in the panties.

The whimper that left Stiles as he held onto Peter’s hair only served to make the primal side of Peter purr in satisfaction. He held Stiles’ hips down against the bed, preventing the boy from thrusting up as he pressed open-mouthed, wet kisses against the see-through material. He took a second to let Stiles catch his breath as he nosed against the straining cloth. He wanted to rip the material from the boy, to have all access to whatever he wanted, yet he knew that he'd regret doing so. To destroy something so _pretty_ wouldn't be the best course of action.

Stiles’ heart jumped and sped even more when Peter growled, low and threatening when Stiles’ hands moved to the waistband of the panties. He couldn't stop his own noise in response, he pulled his hands away from his waist and balled the fists into the sheets underneath him. Peter very clearly didn't want him to push the offending garment down.

There was a second where he considered saying something, to stopping Peter. There was something about the noise he had just made that made Stiles wary, that made him doubt Peter’s usually immaculate self-control – especially when he was so close to such a sensitive area. He had the briefest image of Peter growing fangs and just taking a bite of him.

Peter’s growl turned softer, and Stiles knew that he was trying to calm him the best he could. The faintest pressure touched the damp front of the underwear and Stiles couldn't hold back the strangled gasp, he tried to rock up into the touch, only to whine at how little he could move. Stiles felt Peter rest his forehead against his thigh, the man’s breath tickling his skin.

“Back to human?” Stiles asked, even to himself he sounded _needy_. It was ridiculous at how much Stiles wanted to take himself in his own fist, just to stop the demanding need he had.

“Don’t test me,” Peter mumbled. It really said something about Stiles that the muffled voice and overly blue eyes did more to arouse him than to scare him. “If I was sure I would stay in control, I’d have you on your front until you cum just from my cock along,” Peter growled, finishing with an open-mouthed kiss against Stiles’ thigh, groaning at Stiles’ wanton moan as his teeth caught the too delicate flesh.

“Teeth,” Stiles managed to gasp out, “I don’t want a bite Daddy,” he added, his voice softer. There was a small hint of concern, whether it was due to Peter’s non-human teeth, or the fact the man had admitted his own doubts in self-control, he wasn’t sure.

Peter’s eyes met Stiles’. Slowly, much like the predator he _was_ , Peter crawled up the bed, bracketing Stiles between himself and the mattress. There was no denying how much it added to his excitement, and Stiles wondered just where he had adopted such a thrill for danger.

“May – maybe we should wait,” Stiles said breathlessly as Peter’s mouth once again found his neck. “ _Ahh_ – pause, or are you – _fuck_ – are you su – _uhh_ – re about –”

“You talk too much,” Peter huffed into Stiles’ neck.

“You went growly,” Stiles said, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

“You surprised me,” Peter hummed. “Didn’t expect it,” the words were becoming a lot clearer the longer Peter stayed hidden.

“Are you going to growl if I take them off?” Stiles asked, the burning desire slowing to a simmer as he stroked Peter’s back. An orgasm could wait, there was no need to push Peter. On the plus side, Lydia had been right when she said it wouldn’t end as badly as Stiles thought.

“Brat,” Peter made a thoughtful noise, wrapping an arm around Stiles as he turned the two of them so Stiles was sprawled on top of him.

“You love it,” Stiles grinned, wriggling until he was comfortable. He settled for a moment before shifting again. “Seriously, they’re all wet now.”

Peter laughed. “They come off and you don’t get anything else,” he offered.

“Pervert,” Stiles grumbled half-heartedly.

“I have a specific taste,” Peter hummed. “Now, next time you have such a delightful surprise, I will try to control myself.”

“Next time?” Stiles repeated. “As if, this was a one-time thing man.”

“I can hear the lie.”


	34. Make-Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back, if you aren't following Avoidance, things were hectic at the end of the univeristy course, but that's over and now is just a waiting game on the results. So, I have all the time to write again, and I'm trying to get back into the regular writing/updating pattern. Which is good, and the next chapter after this one will be kinky-ish I believe. Then we get a Chris moment. Or perhaps the other way around, but Chris will be in soon, either next chapter or the one after that.

“Stiles, can we talk?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said honestly. He was still conflicted about talking to his father, even after talking to Peter. The man hadn’t been open to a conversation last time they were together, and Stiles doubted he could handle another emotional hit so soon. At least he was going back to Peter, he just had wanted to collect his laptop and a few other changes of clothes on his way back from school.

“I should have given you the chance,” John admitted. “I wasn’t willing to listen and that wasn’t fair to you.”

Stiles paused, not leaving his dad’s view like he had planned. The words spoken had surprised him. It gave him hope that he felt the need to push away insistently. It wasn’t worth getting hopeful, not again.

“Can you – can we sit and talk for a bit? Please son,” John asked, staring at Stiles’ back.

Stiles closed his eyes, still trying to keep his hope at bay. It would do no good to work himself up and be let down.

“I spoke with Chris Argent,” John continued. "He made a point to me that opened my eyes. I should have listened, and I should have let you talk without interjecting with what I thought.”

“You should have,” Stiles agreed.

“I do care about you,” John continued after Stiles. “I haven’t shown it as well as I should have, there should be no doubt that I care about you. Stiles… please,” John finished softly.

“I know you’ve been busy,” Stiles said carefully. It hurt to actually give his dad the excuses that he had mentally made. It is easier to handle, the thought of his dad being distant because he was just busy. It was either use these excuses or admit that it was because of Stiles, and Stiles did not want that. Sure, he had considered the fact he may have ruined his relationship with his own father, so many things had happened that indicated such a thing, but it didn’t mean that he wanted that to be true.

“You’re my son,” John said, watching Stiles’ back, willing him to turn around so they could talk properly. “I should have made time. I just – it’s so easy to forget you are still a kid,” John paused as Stiles scoffed. “You’ve gone through so much and you have never needed me much, but that doesn’t excuse it. I shouldn’t think of you like an adult and then treat you like a child in the next moment.”

“Chris tell you that as well?” Stiles asked, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

“He pointed out that after everything you have been through, I should respect your choices, and he’s right,” John watched as Stiles turned. There was a guarded look to his expression as son regarded his father. “I never intended –”

“Dad,” Stiles interrupted, needing to say what was on his mind before he lost the thought and accepted it. “You hurt me, it wasn’t the first time you haven’t listened, or even called me a liar,” Stiles shook his head as he pressed his lips into a thin line. He recalled what Peter had said, about how he should try to explain himself in order to get his dad’s understanding. “Everything I lied about – and it was a lot, I know. It all had a reason. I didn’t tell you about the werewolves because it wasn’t _my_ secret. I was helping a friend, telling you might have put them in danger or it could have put you in danger. I couldn’t do that,” Stiles tried. It was true, he had only wanted people to be safe, even now, he wanted everyone he cares about safe and away from any possible danger. “If you hadn’t seen me possessed, I still wouldn’t have told you,” and it would have broken his heart to see his dad continue to distrust him, but if he was safe, then surely it was worth it?

“Stiles –”

“You said you would listen,” Stiles pointed out. “You’ve said something and – I did a lot of bad stuff dad, it was _me_. I enjoyed it. Hell, sometimes I want that power back,” Stiles could feel his hands shaking at his sides. “I don’t blame you for not caring, even if you don’t realise how little you care. I’ve had so many guns pointed at me, and sometimes – sometimes I _wish_ they had pulled the trigger. _God_ , Scott wouldn’t hate me, you wouldn’t be hiding evidence – I wouldn’t be causing so many problems –”

Stiles froze, his own words taking him by surprise. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sudden dryness of his throat.

_“He’s strong. There is very little that he could face that would truly break him,”_ Chris had said, and John had believed him. Everything he had seen and heard supported that Stiles could handle a lot. It stuck John that perhaps everyone had been seeing their own jaded version of Stiles, one that even he had believed. Looking at the boy now, there was no way John felt as comfortable with Chris’ words of encouragement. Yes, Stiles was strong, amazingly so, but it seemed like any additional stress would break him.

Making the decision, John moved forward, a hand reaching out for the back of Stiles’ neck as he pulled his son close to him. There was nothing that he could say, not after that admittance. Not when Stiles was staring wide-eyed at his own shock. The embrace seemed to make Stiles crumble, it was nowhere near the level of comfort Stiles would have previously sought. In the past, Stiles would have returned the embrace, rather than just sink into it.

“I am glad no one shot you, and we will come back to you having a lot of guns pulled on you kid,” John promised. “I wouldn’t change you for the world, you have to know that. I’ve screwed up, I know. I’ll make it better, and I’ve been talking to Chris Argent about how to make this place werewolf-safe, if you want to come back. I’m not going to force it, but I really miss you around kiddo.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“So things seem better?” Peter asked, when Stiles had returned to tell the tale of the strange occurrence at home, leaving out a few select details.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” Stiles shrugged, watching as Peter finished putting the baking tray into the oven. Stiles had continued to babble about the strangeness if it al. “He says that Chris went to talk to him, why did he do that? How does he even know?”

“Darling, Christopher isn’t dumb. He just wants to help as much as he can,” Peter placated as he closed the oven. Turning back to Stiles, Peter couldn’t stop the smile from spreading. As much as he tried, there was very little to Stiles that was intimidating, the narrowed gaze was lessened by the Deadpool t-shirt. “Don’t pout dear,” Peter smiled. “I told Christopher about your father not listening to you, just so he would execute some caution if a similar situation were to arise.”

Stiles tried to hold onto his narrowed gaze, but Peter was having none of that. The man moved closer, stopping just before Stiles. Stiles continued to stay still, not moving until Peter had raised his hand and brushed Stiles’ cheek. Peter watched as Stiles’ eyes fluttered, his head turning to the hand on his cheek.

“You are simply divine,” Peter hummed.

“Flatterer,” Stiles grinned.

“Christopher has your belongings by the way,” Peter pointed out, stepping closer and moving his free hand to Stiles’ waist.

“Lydia told me he picked them up,” Stiles said, his eyes opening to meet Peter’s. “We’ll talk about you plotting with Chris.”

“Darling boy, if I was _plotting_ with Christopher, I’d already have you spread out on the bed for him to ravish,” Peter said softly, smirking at the way Stiles’ eyes darkened and a small puff of air left his lips.

“I doubt he’ll be up for that,” Stiles responded, slightly breathless but glad for the distraction.

“He would definitely be _up_ for it,” Peter disagreed. “We just need to make him accept it, which won’t be difficult.”

Stiles whined quietly when Peter stepped back, pouting at the growing smirk on the older man’s face.

“Now baby boy, we only have fifteen minutes before the food is done, we shouldn’t get distracted just yet,” Peter hummed.


	35. The Elevator

“Tell me again how you got me here?” Stiles asked, fidgeting where he stood. He shot Peter a frown as the man ignored him. “Peter,” he tried once again to get the wolf’s attention. “Don’t ignore me.”

“I’m not ignoring you sweetheart,” Peter said gently. “I’m merely ignoring a rhetorical question.”

“Why are we here?” Stiles asked once again, glancing over to the apartment building. It wasn't an attractive place from the outside, moss and ivy growing up the walls. Stiles knew that they were going to visit Chris, he just didn’t expect such an… interesting area. It wasn’t bad per say, but it wasn’t an area Stiles would have imagined Chris to be staying. At a glance, the building was one a person wouldn’t look at twice. It wasn’t run down, more like a building you wouldn’t observe for more than a few seconds.

“We’re going to make sure Christopher collected everything, you know this,” Peter said, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice.

“Don’t be mean,” Stiles huffed, a smile still tugging at his lips as he used his side to nudge Peter.

“Stop being a brat,” Peter retorted as he wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders.

“’m not a brat,” Stiles mumbled, his smile in full force as he leant against Peter, who had made a thoughtful hum. Together, they headed towards the apartments, Peter steering Stiles away from the reception without a thought and leading the younger man into the elevator.

“Christopher is still paranoid,” Peter said softly, his mouth close to Stiles’ ear. “Can you spot the camera he added?”

Lifting his eyes, Stiles glanced around the small space as the doors shut. It looked like a normal elevator.

“He has a camera?” Stiles asked.

“Don’t disappoint me darling,” Peter said as he prompted Stiles to turn. He pulled Stiles back towards him, pressing the boys back against his chest as he wound his arms around Stiles’ middle. “There is the normal camera that clearly hasn’t had any maintenance in a while.”

As Peter spoke, Stiles’ eyes found the area in question. The security camera was attached to the ceiling, the black encasing the camera faded and dirty.

“Take a closer look,” Peter said softly. “Your father is a Sheriff, you know what these cameras are meant to look like.”

Stiles found himself nodding to Peter’s words. He had a point, Stiles had seen these cameras before, they were standard for security systems in shops. It had only taken a few passing comments before Stiles had been able to spot the cameras on his own. His father probably didn’t even notice what he had been doing when he had pointed out the flaws in the camera positioning. It had become something akin to a game, Stiles would point out the more obvious flaws before the Sheriff realised just how much he had picked up. Then, the games had stopped. The Sheriff didn’t offer such commentary, keeping it to himself and Stiles followed the same behaviour.

The camera in the elevator was one that was more than likely stationary, leaving a small blind spot just underneath it, although the entrance would still be covered. Not entirely sure what he was meant to be seeing, Stiles fidgeted.

“Just tell me,” Stiles groaned.

“Calm sweetheart,” Peter murmured, pressing a kiss below the boy’s ear. “Don’t force it, the building is almost empty so we have time. Just observe, because I know you can notice this.”

Growing impatient, Stiles glanced around again, his eyes being drawn back to the faded camera casing. He had never seen that before, he could even see the red light of the camera behind the grey cover.

“There you go,” Peter smirked.

“He broke the camera?” Stiles asked, not quite believing it.

“Probably not completely, Christopher is much too competent to leave a broken camera behind to be found,” Peter pointed out grudgingly. “Figure out how he did it,” Peter added gently.

“I don’t know,” Stiles groaned.

“If you do that once more, I will make you regret it here for him to find,” Peter warned, making Stiles flush. “Understood?”

Stiles nodded, trying to swallow around the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Or,” Peter said, drawing the word out. “We could put that on pause and talk about just _what_ has you smelling like this,” as Peter spoke, he tightened his arms around Stiles’ waist as the boy wriggled within them. “Do you like the idea of Christopher seeing you?” Peter asked, trying to tread carefully as they hadn’t really discussed this in realistic depth. “I could make you fall apart here, maybe Christopher is even watching now,” he mused. “I’m sure he’d love the view if he was,” Peter slipped a hand under Stiles’ t-shirt. “It might even be enough to coax him from his overly angelic urges.”

“Peter,” Stiles said quietly, barely a whisper.

“Yes my darling boy?” Peter responded with a smirk, he glanced up at the camera as he ran his hand further up Stiles’ front, bunching the t-shirt up as he did.

“What if – what if someone –” Stiles closed his eyes, Peter running his fingers over one of Stiles’ nipples. The action barely hidden by the fabric.

“There are more people on higher floors than there are here, I’ll know long before someone joins us,” Peter reassured him. “Remember, you can say stop.” Peter moved his free hand onto the waistband of Stiles’ jogging bottoms, toying with the idea of doing more. “Do you want me to stop?” Peter asked.

There was a second of silence before Stiles shook his head.

“I would like a verbal answer baby,” Peter grinned.

“Don’t stop daddy,” Stiles whispered, his eyes firmly on the floor. He leant further back against Peter as the man’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pants and the other hand continued the gentle teasing of his nipples.

“Good boy,” Peter praised. “I want verbal responses to any question, don’t forget that.”

“Ok,” Stiles said, shutting his eyes as he turned even redder. He could feel the heat on his face and he didn’t want to face the reality of where he was, he just tried to focus on the fact Peter didn’t seem to want to humiliate him completely and that he was safe. Safe with _Peter_ , sometimes that fact still shocked him, even though it was becoming less of a spectacle each time it ran through his mind.

“My good boy, if you keep this up, you might just get a treat,” Peter said teasingly as he slipped his whole hand underneath Stiles’ jogging bottoms and his boxers, palming at the semi-interested cock.

“Peter,” Stiles breathed.

“Hush right now,” Peter chastised lightly. “Let me talk a little more. I think that next time I might get you to strip here, just for my eyes and for Christopher’s camera. I’m not planning on showing off your pretty body just yet, but maybe soon,” Stiles’ groan was like music to Peter.

“I wonder if he would save the footage, just so he can watch it again and again,” Peter said softly, each work being spoken into Stiles’ ear as he kept his eyes on the camera and his senses on the boy in his arms. It was easy to do, Stiles took over so much of his attention anyhow.

Peter continued to move his hand slowly over Stiles’ cock, knowing just how frustrating the tender touch would be along with his words.

“He doesn’t smell as sweet as you do when he’s aroused,” Peter added, taking a moment to just breathe in the sweet scent of _Stiles_ , there was something that just drew Peter in, even when they had first met. It hadn’t just been the scent, there was just something about Stiles, something that made Peter _want_ to know more. It was something that even in his insanity he couldn’t ignore.

“Look at how hard you’ve gotten,” Peter said with mock surprise, trying not to dwell on his own thoughts. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you _wanted_ Christopher to see you like this.”

“Pe – Peter,” Stiles said shakily.

Coming up with an idea, Peter grinned widely to the camera. He stopped moving his hand, listening to the soft whimper that the motion caused. Slowly, Peter began to inch Stiles’ boxers down, leaving the jogging bottoms in place.

“I have a fun idea,” Peter hummed. “I know you want to cum, but we’re on our way. I’m going to press the button and you are going to wrap your hand around that pretty cock of yours and play until we reach Christopher’s floor, if you don’t cum before we get there, then you have to wait until we get home. Sound good?” Peter asked, slipping his other hand from Stiles’ chest and slowly dragging his nails over the boy’s stomach, delighting in the shiver it caused.

“Fuck,” Stiles hissed, his hips jerking when Peter finally pushed his boxers down enough to free his cock into the confined space of his pants. “I – what if someone comes in?” he asked, his hands opening and closing at his sides.

“You’ll just have to take that risk,” Peter grinned, pressing a kiss to the back of Stiles’ neck. “Are you going to be my brave boy?”

Stiles let his eyes close. Peter wouldn’t truly let anyone see him, he wouldn’t risk that. Stiles knew this, yet he was still nervous – maybe even a little scared of the possibility. So why was he still so turned on? _Anyone_ could get into the elevator with them, and Stiles would look obvious, he could feel the tent in his pants, even without looking. There was no way that anyone would miss it. _Then there was Chris_ – Chris could be watching right now. Stiles hated how much Peter had noticed, even if he loved it.

Peter waited as Stiles considered it, he could push, but he still doubted how well Stiles would take such an action. Here was not the place to try either. Peter gave Stiles another minute before he removed himself from around Stiles and stepped back, it always made him smile how Stiles whined without thought when he moved away. It was one of the softest noises that Stiles tended to make but it left Peter feeling delighted.

Sidestepping, Peter leant against the wall, within arm’s reach of the buttons. He watched as Stiles’ eyelids fluttered, revealing the whisky colour beneath. Stiles fidgeted in place, eyes meeting Peter’s before a flush crossed his cheeks and he looked away again. Once again, Peter wondered just how far he would be able to push Stiles during this whole relationship, it would be worth every second of waiting. The blood in his cheeks, the hint of embarrassment, even the _testable_ arousal, it all spoke volumes to what might be achievable, even if nothing more came from this – what Stiles had to offer was beyond anything Peter could ask for.

Stiles fidgeted again, the blush deepening as he wiped his hands on his pants. He licked his lips, still not looking at Peter. There was a small glance towards the camera, one that had a similar effect to meeting Peter’s own gaze, a slight rise in his heart rate, a quickening of breath and a spike in embarrassment. Not surprising, but still noteworthy to Peter.

Just as Peter began to admit defeat, Stiles brought a hand to the front of his pants, biting his lip as he grasped the tented area. It was with a smirk up to the camera that Peter pressed the button to Christopher’s floor, aware that they had stayed motionless for a long while. Peter watched as Stiles stroked himself through his sweatpants, he had softened slightly in the time the boy had debated with himself but it hadn’t taken long for Stiles to regain his own interest.

“Look at me darling,” Peter said gently, keeping his expression soft when Stiles glanced up from the floor, his pretty face red. “You look delightful. You have until we reach his floor, then I want your hand away.”

Stiles nodded, speeding his hand slightly. He took a step back, his own back resting against the wall as he forced himself to focus on Peter. Peter was in front of him. Peter was watching. It was _Peter_. Nothing else mattered, not the fact they were in an elevator or the fact anyone could stop it and walk in – no, Stiles tried to focus on Peter and not anything else. Not that Chris could be watching – or that they would be outside of Chris’ apartment very soon and _if_ he had been watching then he would know what had just happened –

“Hands off,” Peter murmured as the elevator came to a stop.

Stiles blinked, unaware that he had closed his eyes. It was reluctant that he pulled his hand away, watching as Peter stalked forward.

“You are such a good boy,” Peter said softly, pulling Stiles’ boy towards him, pressing them both chest-to-chest. With skilled ease, Peter slipped his hands into Stiles’ pants and under his boxers, squeezing the boy’s ass. As Stiles groaned quietly, he moved his hands around to Stiles’ front, repositioning Stiles’ boxers back over his cock rather than under them. “Let’s go see Christopher.”

“Wh – what about –” Stiles blushed harder as Peter raised an eyebrow.

“What about what?”

“Don’t I get to cum?” Stiles asked, shifting from each foot.

“I told you, you had until we stopped. Now, let’s go see our hunter about your belongings.”


	36. Claims and a Gun

Stiles stayed dazed as the doors opened and Peter left with long strides.

“Wait!” Stiles called, hurrying after Peter, one hand trying to conceal the tented pants as the other reached for Peter’s t-shirt. “What do you mean  _our hunter_?”

“Don’t act innocent darling,” Peter said, slowing his steps as Stiles’ fingers grasped the back of his top. “He is as much ours and we are his. Would you rather have a  _different_  hunter?”

“That isn’t – we can’t just  _claim_ him!” Stiles said slightly scandalised.

“You claimed him as soon as you got excited by thinking him –”

“It doesn’t work that way!” Stiles hissed, his cheeks reddening once again.

“Oh sweetheart,” Peter grinned, turning and crowding Stiles against the wall. “I suggest you keep your voice down unless you want to be heard,” he teased. “Christopher has claimed you as well, so don’t worry. He’s just too stubborn to acknowledge it, I can’t see that stubbornness lasting too long though, you are just too amazing to ignore.”

Stiles’ mouth opened slightly, a puff of air escaping as he met Peter’s eyes fully. He still felt astonished when Peter said things like that, it always made him pause to repeat it mentally before he could continue.

Peter cradled Stiles’ neck as he brushed a thumb over the boy’s jawline. Once again, he reined in the annoyance at Stiles confounded expression, he would get Stiles to the point of readily accepting compliments.

“How are you doing?” Stiles’ posture slacked at the question, leaning into Peter’s touch.

“I’m hard,” Stiles mumbled.

“I know that darling, I meant emotionally and mentally,” Peter chuckled.

“I’m frustrated,” Stiles grinned. “But ok, nothing I can’t handle yet.”

“Good to hear,” Peter said softly before pressing his lips to Stiles’ in a soft kiss. “Now, we do need to complete our quest for today.”

“You keep stopping,” Stiles pointed out. The blush had finally begun to fade from his cheeks as the easy back and forth continued.

“Well, let us continue before we lose our strength,” Peter said thoughtfully, a glance down at Stiles’ body. Much to his amusement, Stiles’ blush had returned at full force, along with Stiles trying to duck his head. “None of that now,” Peter mused, tilting Stiles’ head back upright so they met eyes again. “No hiding, not lowering your head or behind those hands of yours, understood?”

“You are mean,” Stiles groaned.

“This is hardly mean,” Peter retorted. “If I wanted to be mean, I would fuck you here, where everyone could hear you, but I’m not mean, am I baby boy?”

“No,” Stiles said quietly, licking his lips. “No, that would be mean.”

“And yet you like the thought of it,” Peter grinned. “We are late, come on,” he added with a sigh, stepping back from Stiles. Peter continued on, a few doors away from Christopher’s apartment. Without checking that Stiles was following, Peter crouched down to the door handle and checked the lock. He turned it slowly, seeing if it was locked.

“What are you doing?” Stiles hissed, glancing around rapidly. “That better be his door!”

Peter ignored his companion, grinning as the door opened slowly. He turned back to Stiles as he stood up, lifting a finger to his lips, the grin still present.

Stiles paused, the door was barely ajar, and Peter was still smirking. This was another plan, Stiles summarised. There was no way that Chris would have left himself vulnerable, so he must have known they were coming, which made sense. Peter had been weirdly open about how much the two of them talked, which Stiles still didn’t understand, Peter and Chris had hated each other, or Stiles thought they had. Actually – Stiles couldn’t really recall Peter and Chris being together other than the night that Kate – so maybe they didn’t  _hate_  each other.

Peter reached for Stiles, taking his hand, prompting him forward with a nod towards the door. Sending another suspicious glance over to Peter, Stiles stepped forward cautiously pushing the door open more. Knowing how bad this could be, Stiles grasped Peter’s hand harder, pulling him close behind so they could enter. If anything were to happen, Peter would protect him.

They both stepped in, Stiles taking more care than Peter to make as little noise as possible. The click behind them made Stiles spin, he glared at Peter, seeing the closed door. Peter’s only reassurance was a lifting of his mouth.

With a huff, Stiles turned back around to take another step only to stop short. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened at the sight before him. Chris was stood, hand steady with a handgun pointing right at Stiles.

There was a second where nobody moved. Chris stayed steady, a serious look on his face before he shifted his gaze to Peter, the gun still on Stiles.

“Explain,” Chris snapped.

“I told you we were coming,” Peter said slowly, squeezing Stiles’ hand as the boy swallowed loudly. The arousal that had been diminishing returned. Once Chris returned his gaze to Stiles, the embarrassment was back as well.

“Give me a reason not to,” Chris drawled, losing a fraction of the seriousness that he had been holding onto.

“He’s much too cute,” Peter pointed out. “Another hole isn’t needed.”

Peter’s faux coy tone only made Stiles flush more, even without fully registering the words spoken. His eyes stayed trained upon the gun, his lips still parted.

Chris turned his attention back onto Stiles, pausing slightly as he looked over the younger male. Chris noted the dazed expression, the way Stiles’ eyes were so focused. Stiles even followed the gun with his eyes when Chris moved it aside slightly. Chris met Peter’s eye, catching the overtly smug expression. Chris had a small flashback to Peter’s  _“Before you pull it out, we should call Stiles back. He seems to have a thing for weapons.”_ Peter seemed to have a point, it was either that or Stiles had more of a fear of them.

“Perhaps the gun should go away before we all get too carried away,” Peter suggested lightly, his eyes still dancing with mirth.

Chris waited a second, he had another weapon close by if he needed it. Because of that fact, he hit the release button to let the magazine fall to the floor with a clatter. The noise seemed to bring Stiles back from the trance-like state he had been in. His eyes met Chris’ and his cheeks turned pink.

Stiles had come back to himself with a jolt. His eyes finally leaving the gun and meeting Chris. As they stared at one another, Stiles felt Peter press against his back as his arm wrapped around his stomach. Stiles felt himself leaning back, trying to stop himself hiding from view, because the children’s thought process of ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ was obviously true.

“Now, are all the weapons away?” Peter asked, his voice teasing.

“Peter shut up,” Stiles hissed.

“I’m just playing darling,” Peter said quietly next to Stiles’ ear.

With a huff, Stiles pushed Peter’s arm away from him as he stepped away from the older man. As he did so, Chris had  _finally_  lowered the empty gun.

“You have my stuff,” Stiles pointed out, refusing to look back at Peter as he focused on Chris. He dare not look down in case he fixated on the gun once again, nor did he  _want_  to look at Chris, not after what had just happened. Instead, Stiles glanced around the apartment. There was something in particular that caught Stiles’ eye. On the floor by the door was something shined.

Making his way over, aware that both men were watching, Stiles knelt down. As he moved, Stiles felt his pants shift against himself, reminding him of what happened in the elevator. Stiles heard Peter’s chuckle, making him blush more, because Peter probably  _knew_  exactly what Stiles had thought. Trying not to think about it, Stiles hovered a hand over the thin strip of metal.

“I wouldn’t do that. It won’t do anything but ” Chris said in a chipper tone.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, glancing back whilst trying to act as if he wasn’t doing an impression of a raspberry.

“Layer of security, makes a note of anything that interrupts the connection,” Chris pointed out. He sidestepped Peter to move closer to Stiles. “It connects to that,” he added, glancing up as he did. Stiles followed the action, seeing another strip of metal directly above the one on the floor.

“Lets him know if anyone comes in that he doesn’t know about,” Peter interrupted.

“I have another gun nearby,” Chris said lightly.

“I didn’t even call you paranoid,” Peter shot back. “Now darling, we had a reason for being here other than what just happened.”

Stiles shot Peter a furious look, trying to convey the need he had for Peter to just  _shut up_.

“Something happened?” Chris asked, his looked from Peter to Stiles’ even redder face.

“Nothing happened,” Stiles said quickly.

Chris ignored Stiles’ panicked denial as he raised an eyebrow to Peter, only get a smirk in response.

“I don’t want to know,” the hunter decided. “Most of your things are in the car, but I did bring in your files and a few other bits I thought you might like back as soon as possible.”

Stiles offered Chris a smile as he stood. Chris pretended not to notice how the boy had pulled on his t-shirt as he moved, or how Peter tracked every minuscule movement Stiles made. It wasn’t his business.

“Where – where is my stuff that’s here?” Stiles asked, trying to change the conversation.

“Go through to the study, it’s the only open door,” Chris said, nodding towards the direction he had come from. Without waiting, Stiles scurried towards the room in question.

“Must you send him away?” Peter sighed.

“He asked,” Chris pointed out.

“He’s embarrassed, obviously he wants an escape,” Peter rolled his eyes. He took a step towards Chris, who stood his ground. “I guess you noticed his fixation.”

“Difficult not to,” Chris admitted. The  _picture_  Stiles made was truly something. There was just  _something_  about Stiles even without any additional factors, but add in the slightly parted lips and the glazed eyes as he sported the blush…

“He really is something,” Peter added into the silence, and Chris found himself nodding before he could stop himself. “Oh, there was an issue with the elevator, just so you know.”

“It was working fine –”

“When we came up, there was something noteworthy,” Peter amended his statement.

“I told you I want no part in this,” Chris sighed.

“ _You_  kissed him.”

“I have enough self-preservation not to get  _involved_  with an underage child,” Chris snapped.

“So you’re waiting for his birthday?” Peter asked slyly.

“Of course not,” Chris snapped.

“Are you two coming or am I allowed to snoop?” Stiles called, having found the study.

“We’re right behind you,” Peter called back. “After you Christopher,” he said at a normal volume, gesturing for Chris to lead the way.

Stiles had found the room with little difficulty. Chris had been right with saying only one door was open, of course, it didn’t stop Stiles wanting to see if the other doors were unlocked. Deciding to behave – even if it is for once, Stiles didn’t move further around the apartment. He stepped into the study with a mumbled, “if this is bobby trapped I will not forgive you.”

The study itself was small, nothing like the one in his old house. That had been suited for him and his hunting business. This study, it hid nothing from view. There were knives around the room, each easily accessible, and Stiles knew that there were even more weapons about just out of view. Chris had a habit of having things hidden in plain sight that Stiles could only hope to learn. On the wall was a map of Beacon Hills, nothing visible to the naked eye, but Stiles had the impression that there was a wealth of information available to Chris if he needed it.

“Christopher,” Peter said, pausing at the door before Chris had followed Stiles into the study. “I would recommend watching what happened in the elevator. I’m positive you’ll learn something new.”

Chris saw how Stiles flushed brightly once again, and he would be lying if he claimed it didn’t raise his interest, even if Chris would never admit such a thing to Peter Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part just might have Chris’ reaction to seeing the elevator scene and ooh, I cannot wait for it. Plus Stiles having his things back to a degree (because some are still going to be with Chris for now).


	37. Chris Has A Show

Christopher Argent was sat in his desk chair, leaning against the table as he stared at the laptop before him. He could still hear Peter’s reminder to check the security footage when he had gotten into the car with Stiles. Chris had helped the two of them move some of Stiles’ belongings into Peter’s car, as well as arranging what should be left where. Most of it being moved to Peter’s apartment at a later date whilst Stiles was in school, and the rest being left at the Sheriff’s residence. All at the boy's insistence, even when Peter had offered other solutions. Stiles had just insisted on a select few things being returned home. 

Chris moved the mouse, blinking as the screen lit up once more. There were live videos in Chris' bedroom, each continuously running just in case he needed instant access, but most of the data was saved, he could access the past recordings on the laptop. It wouldn't be difficult, yet he knew he was hesitating. There was a small part of him that expected Peter to be within earshot, just to hold whatever he would watch over him.

Chris ran a hand over his mouth, looking around the room he was in. He could just  _not_  watch it. Not watching wouldn't mean anything bad. Perhaps it would even make Peter stop. Not that Chris would actually admit that he didn't  _want_  Peter to stop, not completely.  _Oh_ , Chris knew he was fighting a losing battle, he had been since he spent those hours with Peter and Stiles, even before the kiss.

Shaking his head, Chris stopped obsessing over the what-ifs. He moved the mouse again, this time scrolling back through the camera feed. He clicked the point where he saw Peter and Stiles step in, only the feed had jumped a little. Stiles and Peter stood close to one another, the younger male leaning against the older. It wasn't until Stiles looked directly at the camera that Chris felt the need to stop the video again. This was an invasion of privacy, he knew that much. Maybe Stiles  _didn't_  know - even though his blush when Peter mentioned watching it. 

Chris' mobile phone vibrated, thankful for the distraction, he reached for it. His thankfulness did not last.

**From Peter Hale _; Stop second guessing and enjoy. He agreed._**

Chris' mouth fell into a firm line, annoyed that Peter seemed to be able to read him without even being present. In Chris' haste to answer the incoming message, he had hit the key again, playing the footage taken. So, when Christopher looked back to his laptop, he saw Stiles with a blush high on his cheeks and Peter, who was stood behind Stiles glancing up to the camera. 

Chris licked his lips subconsciously as he saw Peter's hand slip under the thin fabric of Stiles' t-shirt. He watched with rapt attention as that hand moved, bunching the fabric ever so slightly, showing off a pale stripe of skin. Chris once again told himself that he shouldn't be watching this as Peter's other hand moved to Stiles' waistband,  _it is an invasion of privacy, no matter what Peter said_. 

Still, he could not look away. Not as Stiles turned a deeper shade of red, nor as Peter's hand disappeared into Stiles pants.

Chris took a shaky breath, realising he had been holding it as Peter moved.  _This is wrong_. Stiles' eyes closed, his head falling back onto Peter as his hands twitched by his sides. Chris could imagine how much Stiles wanted to hold onto something, how the young man would grasp and twist what he could with his hands just to stop himself reaching for another person. Chris watched, half disgusted at himself with how much attention he gave Stiles. Stiles - who was  _still_ underage. It shouldn't matter how he had his eyes closed, or how his head was thrown back, nor the way it was clear that the child was almost panting from what was happening.

Chris was almost relieved when Peter moved his hands away. Hoping it was over, Chris turned away. He closed his eyes, trying not to recall just what he had seen, rather he tried to ignore everything his body told him about what he had seen. He didn't note how his own heart rate was faster, nor how his breath was uneven, and certainly not how his pants felt tight. It was mind over matter. It had to be. 

Shaking his head, Chris turned back to stop the video, only to pause again. Stiles and Peter were still present, Peter almost out of view of the camera whilst Stiles stood in plain sight. Chris' throat went dry as Stiles continued to move a hand over the tented area of his trousers,  _clearly, Chris had missed something,_ he wanted to rewind, to go back and see just how  _this_  happened. 

If Chris didn't know better, he would say that Stiles was unaware of just what was happening. Of who could be watching, it was only the little glances to the camera that shattered that thought. Chris didn't know if he'd prefer Stiles to be unaware. If Stiles did not know  _Chris_  could be watching, then that made it easier to ignore. If Stiles  _did_  know... Chris couldn't very well ignore it.

The video showed Stiles looking at Peter, the red clear on his face and yet the enjoyment showing through any uncomfortable feelings. Stiles had just started to rock his hips in time with his hand when he stopped, the reluctance clear on his face. Chris wanted  _that_. He wanted more. He accepted his own disappointment as Peter moved forward and then lead Stiles from the elevator.

Seeing the empty elevator, Chris closed the recording. Even though he wanted to re-watch it, he wouldn't. Not yet. There was a moment where he considered deleting the file, just to avoid temptation, but ultimately, Chris saved it as a nonsensical name and hide it among his files, trying to tell himself that he wouldn't return to it.

**From Christopher; _Are you trying to get me arrested for child pornography?_**

**From Peter Hale; _Did you not like it?_**

****From Christopher;** _Peter._ **

**From Peter Hale; _It's a shame you don't have a microphone with that camera. He makes the sweetest noises you could imagine._**

Peter grinned, aware that Chris was avoiding and was going to continue to avoid how much he liked it. 

"You did not," Stiles groaned, pulling Peter's phone from the man's hand. He scrolled up and squeaked. "Oh my god."

"Don't worry darling, Christopher is just being dramatic," Peter chuckled, watching as Stiles stood off the couch and began to pace.

"He saw it!" Stiles fretted.

"If he didn't want to watch it, he would have turned it off as soon as he realised what it was," Peter said, the smile still present even as his voice was soothing. "If he did watch it all, then it is not a bad thing -"

"If he watched it all, he saw me!" Stiles pointed out, getting slightly more worked up as he moved. Stiles began to fidget during his pacing, his hands moving, he balled his hand up and knocked one fist against his leg and the other tapped Peter's phone against his chest.

Peter's grin left as he stood, he waited until Stiles came closer before placing his hands on the boy's shoulders, effectively stopping him.

"Hey, hey," Peter said gently. "I wouldn't do anything that puts you in danger. I trust Christopher," Peter paused as Stiles snorted. The older man raised an eyebrow and lifted Stiles' head slightly to let their eyes meet. " _I trust_  Christopher with  _you_ ," he stressed. "If I thought he would be a danger to either of us, then he would be gone so quickly."

The statement helped Stiles relax slightly. The nervous energy lessening.

"I know," Stiles said. "It's just - it's just..."

Peter waited, even as Stiles made a frustrated noise at his lack of words. Peter could offer a selection of possibilities;  _scary and unnerving being the most obvious,_ but it wouldn't do to add his owns to explain Stiles' emotions.

"I don't know," Stiles whined. 

"That's ok," Peter pointed out gently. "I doubt Christopher will say anything to you about it," he added. "He'll just blame me, you're just the innocent little lamb in my games."

Just as Peter predicted, calling Stiles innocent earnt him an amused snicker. It wasn't quite the rise in emotion that Peter wanted, but it would distract Stiles from his concern for a second. 

"Promise he won't say anything?" Stiles asked, his eyes darting over Peter's face.

"I can't promise," Peter murmured, one hand moving from Stiles' shoulder to Stiles' neck, his thumb tracing the boy's jawline. "It's unlikely. He  _might_ ," Peter admitted. "But he's more likely to come to me about it, not you."

"Make me stop worrying?" Stiles said in a whisper.

"I can try darling," Peter said with a smile. "What do you think would help?" Stiles shrugged, looking away from Peter. "Ok baby boy, how about you go and collect Dianna, then come back here, understood? Words please," Peter added when Stiles nodded.

"Ok," Stiles mumbled, still not meeting Peter's eyes.

Peter moved his hands away from Stiles, letting the boy disappear out of the room to search for his teddy bear. There was something that had changed during the ride back to Peter's apartment. He didn't know what, perhaps talking to Chris had been a bit too much, or maybe Stiles had fallen into his thoughts on the way home without vocalising it before it got too much. He could hear Stiles moving about, stopping in the bedroom, where he had last had Dianna before returning.

"Go - got her," Stiles mumbled once he returned, standing in the doorway as he fidgeted.

"Brilliant," Peter said, putting more praise into his tone than he would have normally done. "Now, come here sweetheart," Peter grinned, holding his hand out for Stiles. "We don't have to do this, but I want to suggest something."

Stiles took Peter's hand, letting the older man pull him closer. Stiles held tighter onto Dianna with his free hand.

"This wouldn't be a punishment," Peter reinforced before he continued. "There are sometimes that spanking can help clear someone's mind, nothing overly hard, just repetitive to let you focus on something other than what is happening in your mind. I wouldn't be aiming to cause you any true pain, nor would I want the pain to last longer than an hour or two. Just to give you something else," Peter explained, he stopped his speech as Stiles shook his head.

"No," he said. "Not - I don't want to try that now," he said, still shaking his head. "It - it just made me want to cum," Stiles admitted.

"It was different last time," Peter pointed out. "But that is ok," he added. "How about you help me make Dinner?  I was thinking about making something simple, but I'll need help chopping everything up."

"That works," Stiles nodded, it was something he could do with his hands, something that didn't require total concentration.

So, Peter lead the way, leading Stiles by the hand to the kitchen. Gently he took Dianna from the boy, setting her on the counter with a jar supporting her back. After that, he gestured for Stiles to go to the sink, crowding behind him when he did. Reaching over, Peter turned on the tap before easing Stiles' hands towards the water. 

"Let me help darling, we need to make sure you're all clean," he said softly, taking his time washing Stiles' hands one by one, paying attention to the boy's fingers and his palm before running them back under the water. It was a small thing, but each second he did it, he felt Stiles lean back into him more.

"You don't need to do that, I can wash my own hands," Stiles said half-heartedly.

"What if I want to make sure my little boy is all clean before he helps me make food?" Peter asked, pressing a chaste kiss to Stiles' neck. Peter heard the flutter of Stiles' heartbeat, there was something about that sentence that he had liked.

"I guess that's ok then," Stiles said with a smile, he wriggled his fingers, letting the water fall between them as Peter held his hand steady. It was nice, a small part of Stiles had huffed at the childish handling, but Peter hadn't made it  _seem_  childish at all. 


	38. Shoes

“You look dead,” was Lydia’s greeting to Stiles when he arrived at school. Lydia, Malia and Stiles had gotten into the habit of meeting each other at one of the tables around the school. Stiles had arrived first, claiming one that overlooked the parking lot.

“Thanks,” Stiles deadpanned, he lifted his head from his arms, glaring at the shadow of Lydia Martin. “I barely slept,” he added.

“We don’t want to know the details,” Malia grinned. She had been stood next to Lydia, aiding in blocking the sun from Stiles’ view.

“No,” Stiles said with a shake of his head. He waited for both of the women to sit across from him, letting the sun hit his eyes again. “I was home last night, first time I’ve been there in a while, I couldn’t sleep.”

“That is sickening,” Lydia said. “You’re _t_ _hat_  used to Peter being around?” she asked.

“I’m tired,” Stiles groaned. “Let me sleep on you?” he asked, fluttering his eyes at Lydia.

“That isn’t going to work, you are just blinking at me,” Lydia pointed out.

Stiles groans, tempted to hit his head on the table.

“You’re a child,” Lydia shook her head.

“At least Peter lets me whine,” Stiles mumbled. “Oh, I have been meaning to ask you something,” he added, lifting his head again to glance at Lydia before the sun hurt his eyes too much.

“Shoot,” Lydia grinned.

“I think we should do another shopping trip after school,” Stiles said.

“Another sexy?” Malia asked, looking to Lydia for confirmation.

“What this time? More? Because I would love to dress you up,” Lydia grinned with the slightest maniacal hint.

“I’ll explain more later,” Stiles said, lowering his voice. He caught sight of Scott across the way. It drained him of his good feeling, leaving only the bitterness that seemed to follow any sight of Scott or Theo.

“Forget them,” Malia said, not even looking back to confirm who Stiles saw. “They aren’t worth it.”

“I know,” Stiles agreed. “It just – you know,” he trailed off, not wanting to get too much into what he thought when they were so close.

“We could do it,” Malia said seriously, referring back to a conversation topic that she had suggested the last time they were out of hearing range. “It’d make you feel better.”

“It would,” Stiles agreed. He met Lydia’s eyes, waiting for the token protest that one of them would typically offer.

“I’m not saying anything,” Lydia said, she looked behind her. “I do want that smug look gone though, so I won’t kill Peter if he  _chose_  to do something about it,” she added, turning back with an award-winning smile.

“We don’t need him,” Malia said as Stiles said, “he’d happily watch us do it.”

“We’ll talk details for us doing it later then,” Lydia smirked. “Do you have plans for after school?”

“Shops if you’re free,” Stiles offered. “Then home because I need to pick up some stuff and wait for my things to be dropped off.”

“We could always wait with you,” Malia offered.

“I should talk to my dad,” Stiles disagreed, he gave Malia a smile. “I was going to tell him about Peter, or at least about being open to men,” he amended, not entirely sure if his dad would be ok with Peter as his son’s partner.

“He’s blind if he hasn’t noticed,” Lydia pointed out. “You’ve harassed so many gay guys about being attractive, and that’s not even counting your range of friends – speaking of which, do you still talk to the queens?”

“Not often,” Stiles admitted. “I haven’t really felt like acting carefree since – you know, since everything that happened.”

“Just because they don’t know doesn’t mean you have to pretend nothing’s wrong,” Lydia said gently, reaching forward to cover Stiles’ hand with one of her own. “I’m sure they would understand that you –”

“They would assume something else,” Stiles sighed. “I’m not being harassed or threatened because of who I am. I just did some really bad things that make me hate myself sometimes.”

“It wasn’t –“

“I swear if  _you_  tell me that I will scream,” Stiles snapped, cutting Lydia off. As soon as the words left Stiles’ mouth, a flash of regret crossed his face. “Look, I  _know_  that it wasn’t really me. I mean, it  _was_  me but I  _wasn’t_  in control really. It doesn’t change that it’s  _my_  memories that show everyone getting hurt.”

“Stiles,” Malia said.

“Just forget it,” Stiles shrugged. “If anyone would understand it’d be Bucky Barnes and he’s not real.”

“You are really relating to a brainwashed soldier?” Lydia asked, one perfect eyebrow raised.

“It fits,” Malia shrugged, leaning towards Lydia. “Both of them being tragic souls that were used without their consent.”

There was a moment with both Stiles and Lydia stared at Malia.

“You watched it with him, didn’t you?” Lydia groaned. “That was Stiles’ wording.”

“Hey,” Stiles snapped, the heat not behind the words and the smile proving just how little he was actually hurt by it. “I showed her a cinematic masterpiece.”

“You showed her your fanboy side,” Lydia shook her head. Stiles opened his mouth to protest before he thought better of it. He settled for glaring in Lydia’s direction.

“Theo is saying something about us,” Malia said, tilting her head towards the two supernaturals’ that the three of them took severe action to avoid.

“Probably nothing worth noting,” Lydia pointed out. “We should head to class anyway,” she added, checking the time.

The school day passed like most of the others. Stiles could feel the eyes on him, mainly from Scott and there was the odd few times that he had caught Theo watching him. It always sent a shiver up his spine, Theo was something that couldn’t be trusted. The way he had convinced people of his innocence and goodness left a bitter taste in Stiles’ mouth. Sure, he was overly suspicious, but after everything they had been through, it was crazy that the others weren’t as suspicious.

As Lydia and Malia climbed into Lydia’s car, and Stiles climbed into his own, they rang each other, putting the phones on speaker before beginning their journey.

“ _So, what did you want to ask me_?” Lydia’s voice came through his phone once they had enough distance between them and the school. Stiles audibly groaned, wanting both females to hear how much he didn't appreciate being asked that first.

"Look, it's not a huge issue -" he began. "Just - you remember last time we had a  _talk_ ," he stressed. "It's like that."

"So something sexy," Malia pointed out, again, repeating the words that Lydia had used.

"We're actually going to the shop," Lydia added. "Are we dressing you up?"

"No," Stiles said quickly. "No dressing up, not like that," he explained. "More - more like I wanted something to go  _with_  what I had."

"You have an outfit?" Lydia asked. "What are you considering?"

Shaking his head, Stiles muttered, "I should just ask the drag queens."

Malia had clearly told Lydia what Stiles had said quietly enough not to be heard clearly, it resulted in Lydia berating him - in a friendly way. She pointed out how Stiles hadn't felt comfortable keeping in touch with them, and how last time he had asked them for advice, they had reiterated how much they would enjoy him joining them for a while. Stiles said nothing in return, letting Lydia get it all out of her system before she was next to him, plus, she did have a point.

The rest of the drive didn’t seem to take long. Lydia offered directions for Stiles to a more discreet shopping centre, one just outside of town that wouldn’t end with whispers reaching back to the Sheriff.

“Tell me what you want,” Lydia said, leaning against her car as Stiles made his way over. Malia was still sat in the passenger seat, her head tilted back with her eyes closed.

“Shoes,” Stiles shrugged, his eyes flittering around the parking lot, just in case he spotted any car that seemed familiar. When he was sure the coast was clear, he continued, “ok, so. When I got the stuff last time, I got another thing. It’s still lingerie I think. It looks like a bra and a mini skirt but the mini skirt isn’t a normal skirt -” Stiles could feel himself blushing as he spoke.

“Ok, what colour?” Lydia asked, no nonsense in her tone.

“Uh – it’s pink, plaid but pink, with like black lacy bits,” he tried to explain. “It has long socks which attach to the skirt.”

“Stockings,” Lydia corrected. “Colour?”

“Oh – black?”

“Is that a question?” she asked.

“No, they’re – they’re black,” he said.

“Do you have a picture?” Lydia sighed. “I’ll be able to match something to it better with some idea of what it is,” she explained, giving Stiles a slightly exasperated look.

“No,” the male hissed, glancing around. “I don’t have a picture. It’s still in the box.”

“You haven’t even tried it on?” Malia asked, leaning out of the open window with a frown.

“No – not yet,” Stiles fumbled over the words, still looking around the small corner of the shop they were in. “Just – look I wanted a pair of heels, just black ones I think – maybe pink if it is the same colour.”

“So black or pink, how pink is pink?” Lydia asked. “Pale or bright?”

“Bright,” Stiles answered promptly. “Like super bright Hot Rod pink.”

Lydia paused, turning back to Stiles with a tilted head as she let her eyes roam over his body. She hadn’t seen him in such a bright colour but his semi-pale skin would work well with the brightness.

“Don’t judge,” Stiles grumbled. “I bought it with the last one, and it looked nice in the picture.”

“She isn’t judging,” Malia pointed out, she gave a sigh before slipping out of the car, letting Lydia lock it up. There was a soft whirl as the windows closed before the click signalled the lock. “Let’s go,” she said, linking an arm with Lydia and her other with Stiles.

“You can wait with the car,” Lydia pointed out. “I know you won’t enjoy this.”

“I’m coming with you,” Malia said bluntly. “I’ll wait while you dress him but I’m not leaving you both alone.”

“You’ll keep us safe,” Stiles agreed, no hint of a lie. He fully believed in Malia’s abilities and her senses.

“Damn right I will,” Malia grinned.

The three walked together, all bemoaning about the homework they had or the subject choice of the lessons they had. Stiles, letting himself relax around the two females, didn’t pay any mind to where Lydia was leading him. They continued to talk, Stiles noting a blur of colour as they passed different things.

It wasn’t until Malia stopped, throwing herself down onto one of the stools dotted around the shop that Stiles realised that Lydia had pulled him into.

“I’m just going to stay here, call me when you’ve done,” Malia said. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone we know.”

“Thanks,” Stiles smiled, he held his fist out, waiting for Malia to fist bump back. It was one of the first things Stiles had done to help her reintegrate into the world once they met again. Scott had laughed when he found out, saying how Stiles wanted someone that was up to date with the pop culture life, but in reality, it was a form of contact Stiles didn’t hesitate with after the Nogitsune. One of the few he could do without any form of anxiety.

“You sure you don’t want to look?” Lydia asked, glancing back. When Malia shook her head, Lydia just turned her attention back to the shelves. “Do you have ideas on why type of heel you want?” she asked Stiles. “You don’t – of course you don’t know them,” Lydia shook her head. “There are stilettos, wedges, chunky – do you want thick or thin heels?” she settled on seeing Stiles’ bemused look.

“You just said a lot of words,” Stiles pointed out. He couldn’t hide his grin as Lydia groaned.

“These,” she said pulling one shoe from her foot. “Are stilettos, thin heel, can be difficult to walk in if you aren’t used to them,” Lydia slipped her heel back on before pulling another example from the shelf. “These are wedges, no gap for the heel, so it’s just solid. Fairly easy to walk in, and these,” she continued, pulling another shoe from a higher shelf. “These are chunkier heels, not as difficult to walk in as stilettos but not necessarily as easy as wedges. Got it?”

“As best as I probably will,” Stiles admitted. He looked around at the shoes, hoping to find something simple that looked nice. There were several shoes Stiles did appreciate, but most seemed  _too nice_  for him to wear.

“Anything?” Lydia asked.

Stiles didn’t respond, he had seen one of the example shoes from the shelf. Struck by how much it fit his outfit, Stiles picked it up. The soles of the heels were bright pink, with the main body being black. The straps that wrapped around the feet were also a similar plaid pattern to the clothes he had. Stiles heard the soft clicking of Lydia’s heels as she approached closer behind him.

“Cone, peep toe heels, with an ankle strap, not a bad choice really,” she mused. “Only possible issue would be the walking. But you could just lay somewhere and look pretty,” she suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with Malia here, but I'm putting it down to her being a complex character, I love her but she's difficult to write.
> 
> Next chapter has some Chris in it. I promise that much!


	39. You Did That?

Stiles returned home with a box of heels in his size under his arm. He was thankful that the house was empty, even though he knew it would be. There was a small fear that his father had come home early and would be waiting with a question for Stiles’ need for shoes. Stiles quickly hid them in his room, knowing that his dad wouldn’t snoop unless he had a reason to. It was safe.

Lydia had suggested that Stiles practice wearing them, just to get the feel for the shoes and hopefully learn how to walk in them. Which, Stiles had to admit was a good idea. It was just the issue of finding the time to do that without anyone realising. That was for another day though, he didn't have the time. Not when Chris was meant to be coming with a collection of items Stiles had wanted at home. 

Home had been improving, to say the least. His dad had made an effort to listen to what Stiles said and Stiles, in return, made an effort to include his father in what had happened in the past. He had told him about that first night, out in the woods. How Scott had found him the next day with a story of a wolf that bit him. How that whole incident had left Stiles feeling slightly out of place as Scott focused on his budding romance, denying just who he was becoming. Then came what happened with the rogue Alpha who had bitten Scott, the one that they saw die in front of them and they had a part in. Thankfully, John had stayed silent as Stiles spoke. He didn't question the story of the Alpha pack that came into town, or how Jackson had been the Kanima. Finally, Stiles had told him about how he had sacrificed himself, how he had done it to keep John safe, how that lead to him being possessed by the Nogitsune. Stiles had been painfully honest, explaining what he saw himself do, the fact he enjoyed what he did, the fact that he still wondered sometimes if the Nogitsune was still there, just waiting under the surface. Stiles pointed out that it seemed too easy to get rid of it, it was an old spirit, one that shouldn't have been bettered by a teenager. 

That was the point that John had interrupted. John couldn't sit back as Stiles pointed out how much he enjoyed the chaos, how much he didn't trust himself. That night had ended with Stiles feeling so emotionally drained that he could barely handle crawling to his own bed. He had spent the night holding an extra pillow to his chest as Peter's voice came through phone until Stiles had fallen asleep.

On a better note, Stiles had helped his father werewolf-proof the house. Chris had given John a list of possible actions and safety measures, which John had then presented to Stiles. He wanted his son to feel safe. There had been short-term precautions put into place, John lining the entrances with mountain ash before Stiles could add his own thoughts into what he wanted to be done. Which, he hadn't wanted anything permanent, it wasn't fair to his father after all, plus, they didn't exactly have the extra money to supernatural-proof the house properly.

After throwing the shoe box onto his bed, Stiles made his way back downstairs. Midway down the stairs, Stiles heard a thud in the kitchen. Pausing, Stiles quickly thought through his options. He had probably been heard already, but that didn't mean he had to continue broadcasting his position. Changing his stance, Stiles continued, taking care to step on the quieter parts of the steps as he descended. 

Stiles partly cursed himself for not having anything on hand to use on the off chance he was going to encounter someone hostile. 

He stuck close to the walls, there could be another person around beyond the one he had heard. Of course, his father would insist he stay out of sight, and work his way out of the house to safety just in case it was someone unsavoury. He really missed his bat, he'd normally have it close by, typically either in his jeep or in his room, depending on just what had happened.

There was another thud.

Taking a breath, Stiles prepared himself. He turned with purpose, ready to face whoever it was. 

It was somewhat anticlimactic, Stiles stopped, staring at the back of the man. He knew exactly who it was, the stance gave it away. It wasn't even the outline of the gun by his side, nor the clothing preference. There was just something about how he stood that screamed Chris Argent. 

"Do you have a habit of breaking into people's houses?" Stiles asked, aiming for an annoyed tone rather than the slightly stunned one he actually spoke.

"Do you have a habit of facing threats?" Chris shot back. It was a rhetorical question, anyone that knew Stiles would know that he would rather face the threat than to hide. "Peter wanted me to drop off a few things for you along with your stuff. I put them away."

"You don't know where things go," Stiles pointed out, taking a step into the kitchen. A very small part of his brain tempted him into picking up a knife and seeing how fast Chris would react, and what he would do. Purely for science, of course.  "What was it?" he added.

"He claimed that he forgot you wouldn't be back tonight, so he made enough food for you to eat," Chris drawled, the disbelief clear in his voice as he finally turned to face Stiles. He didn't quite  _look_  at the teenager, but Stiles could see how Chris seemed to be making an effort to avoid him.

"You brought me food?" Stiles asked slowly, wanting Chris to clarify.

"I'm playing the role of delivery boy," Chris deadpanned. 

Without completely thinking it over, Stiles had responded with; "You aren't any type of boy I know," unaware of just how it would sound. The statement did, however, cause Chris' gaze to snap to Stiles just in time to catch the reddening cheeks. "Forget that," he pleaded. 

"You know, Stiles," Chris began, leaning back against the counter. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you have a fixation on older men."

"So what if I have my eye on one or two of them?" Stiles huffed. He stared at Chris with what he would like to believe was a determined face, even if Chris' mouth turned up into an amused smirk.

"Not everyone is a good person," Chris pointed out lightly.

"What if I'm almost positive that they are?" Stiles asked, his eyes narrowing. Stiles watched as Chris tilted his head slightly to the side, regarding Stiles with interest.

"You cannot know that for sure," Chris argued. He couldn't outright say that either Peter or himself were part of the mixture of bad people acting as good, but it was surely implied.

"No," Stiles agreed, aware of what Chris was doing. "I can't, but I'm normally right about these things," he added, remembering all the times he  _had_  been right. Sure, that stemmed down to his paranoia and his untrusting nature, but that wasn't the point.

"You are playing a dangerous game."

Stiles paused. He felt as though Chris meant more with that simple statement. Stiles had told himself that he was putting himself in unnecessary danger, he had been spending almost all of his free time with Peter Hale. In addition to that, Stiles was actively helping Peter help  _him_ to seduce Chris Argent, the man with more deadly weapons that anyone ever needed. Yet, Stiles didn't feel like he was in danger, and he had plenty of experience with  _that_  feeling.

"It's only as dangerous as the people I'm against," Stiles pointed out blandly. "If I have a good team behind me, then the opposition isn't a worry."

"If you get drowned by your  _team_ , then they are the dangerous parties," Chris said, using the same analogy as Stiles. 

"Then it's good my team isn't drowning me," Stiles said firmly. He didn't want Chris to get the wrong idea. The people Stiles had around him weren't going to turn against him. They had the chance and they stuck with him. 

"How do you know?"

"After what happened the first time?" Stiles asked Chris, his eyebrow raised. "Since then, everything that has happened has been talked about and thought out.  _Everything_ that has happened has been a team choice, not a dictatorship," Stiles said firmly, talking more about Peter and himself than anyone else.

"Everything?" Chris repeated doubtfully.

" _Everything_ ," Stiles stressed. 

"Just make sure you are heard," Chris settled for, repeating what he had told Stiles before when he had first cornered him about Peter.

"I know," Stiles nodded. "Between the two of you telling me that daily, I can't forget. I might do stupid things but I know my limits."

"Do you?" Chris asked.

The honest question made Stiles purse his lips. He knew what he  _wouldn't_ do, in theory. Chris' question was a valid one, one that Stiles had to admit was something he needed to ask himself. There  _had_  been times that Stiles had considered stopping, but he had continued, he had  _enjoyed_  continuing, so did that count? Peter would stop if Stiles wanted him to, he had done with the blindfold when Stiles couldn't handle it. That aspect, in particular, had been taken away and the plan had changed, it was small but it showed Peter  _would_  stop. Did that mean  _Stiles_ would stop? Stiles knew he was stubborn and he would push himself further than he probably should, but he knew his limits - didn't he?

"I know when to stop," he said. "I trust myself to stop," he added, still unsure he fully believed it.

"Good," Chris said with a slight nod. Chris watched curiously as Stiles seemed to stand taller at the single word. The younger man's eyes brightened, and his stance relaxed. "Come on," he said, not checking behind him as he strided past Stiles.

Stiles automatically followed, pausing in his steps before he left the house, realising how ridiculous he was being. Just why had he followed Chris without asking where to? There was no good explanation for it, no matter how warm he felt. For all Stiles knew, Chris could he leading him somewhere bad - but then why was he in Stiles' house in the first place?

"Kid," Chris called back, having heard the silence behind him signalling Stiles had stopped.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked.

"Delivery."

"No, why are you here? Why did you break in?" Stiles frowned, unsure and 

"You hardly have good enough security to class this as  _breaking in_ ," Chris chuckled, causing that warmth in Stiles once again. "Just come along."

Stiles followed Chris out of the house at a slower pace, forcing his own weariness to the forefront of his being. It wasn't until Chris had unlocked his car and opened the boot that Stiles forgot all about being suspicious. With a grin, he had bounded forward, almost pushing the hunter aside to double check everything he wanted was there. There was the box of mountain ash, the binder, the bat and a few other things as well as  _another_ binder that Stiles was sure did not belong to him.

"This all mine?" he asked, looking from the box in the boot to Chris and then back again.

"Yep."

"I only had one folder," Stiles pointed out.

"Yep," Chris agreed.

"Then why is there two?" Stiles asked, side eyeing Chris as he picked up the new folder. Stiles frowned, it was almost completely full. Flicking through the content, Stiles found most of his own notes, ones he had written and printed having searched and read lore and worded them in a more  _friendly_  way. Then, there were other notes, ones that Stiles had never seen before and it took a lot of his willpower to not read them right then and there.

"I made a copy, thought you'd want your father to have an accessible one," Chris shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal that he had gone out of his way to do such a thing.

"The extra stuff?" Stiles asked, already having his own thoughts on just what had happened to create the extra notes.

"It isn't as user-friendly as your own stuff," Chris admitted. "But it is a lot more than you had, it is only in that one, since I guessed you'd prefer to read it over and rewrite it all."

"You added to my notes?" Stiles asked, just to clarify his own shock. He could feel the smile on his face as he looked back over the binder. They were translated versions of the Latin notes Chris had, and Stiles couldn't help but feel touched by the fact Chris  _trusted_ him  _that_ much.

"I didn't think you'd -" Chris started, only to be cut off as Stiles put the folder down and threw his arms around Chris and held him tightly.

Stiles held on tightly, the grin on his face still so wide that it almost hurt to keep it. He couldn't bring himself to stop though, not when Chris had done something  _so_ nice. Stiles had to admit that he had been upset with how reserved Chris had been - even if he  _was_  thankful for that. All he could remember was Peter's assurance that Chris' moral code wasn't unbreakable. 

"Thank you," Stiles said quietly. "Really, you didn't need to do that."

"Don't sweat it kid," Chris shrugged.

"No, really," Stiles said seriously, not wanting to give himself chance to back down. "Thank you," he stressed. Before he could really talk himself out of the stupid idea that he got, Stiles turned his head and pressed a kiss to Chris' cheek. A small part of him was amused at how Chris had frozen in Stiles' hold and Stiles was sure he heard an intake of breath when he had kissed the man's cheek.

Stiles untangled his arms from Chris, taking a step back from the hunter. He refused to meet his eyes as he leant into the boot of Chris' car to hoist the box up.

As Stiles stepped back from the car, he heard Chris clear his throat, "Don't mention it," the man said gruffly as Stiles stepped back.

"You aren't a bad guy," Stiles blurted before he could stop himself. "I mean - you've probably  _done_  bad things but that doesn't make you a bad person in general. If it did then we're all fucked," he continued. "You've done a lot to help people since I've met you and that's without knowing all the hunting details from before."

"Kid, take your things in," Chris sighed.

"You aren't a bad guy," Stiles said again, more firmly than the first time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty stuff coming up, because we've been lacking and I feel the need for it. Chris is a good guy, I stand by that fact.


	40. Scott Sucks

“Scott came to see me earlier,” Stiles’ dad said as he stepped into his son’s room. “Seemed concerned enough to tell me some things.”

"Oh?" Stiles offered. The hand that had been writing notes in a notepad had frozen. He looked up from the folder Chris had created to turn to his dad. There was a small building of anxiety, one that manifested in Stiles' leg bouncing. Even though Stiles hated it, he could feel the tension radiating from his body, he hoped his dad didn't notice. He also hoped his dad wouldn't fall back into that same pattern that they had been in before, that one where his dad wouldn't listen, that he would just assume what he heard was true.

"What things?" Stiles asked hesitantly.

"He said you are in a relationship with an older man," John said lightly, watching his son.

Stiles knew he froze completely. His leg stopped moving, he stopped twisting his chair from side to side and he barely took a breath. This was not how he wanted his dad to find out. Not like this. Not from anyone but Stiles.

"Why did he tell you that?" Stiles asked quietly, not really expecting an answer from his father. "How dare he?"

"He is worried about you -"

"No," Stiles snapped. "He is - he's being a dick. All he has done is told me that what happened wasn't my fault but he - he doesn't trust me and he's -  _I_ wanted to tell you when I was ready," Stiles settled on. 

"Then tell me?" John requested. 

"Last time I tried, you shot me down," Stiles pointed out bitterly, it had hurt more than he wanted to admit. "I don't dress like the typical type remember."

"Stiles," his father sighed. John moved further into the room, he sat on Stiles' bed. "That night I thought you were just there because something had happened. You have been so obsessed with Lydia that it didn't even occur -"

"Bisexuality is a thing," Stiles grumbled. 

"Ok," John said. "You like men, that is perfectly fine. The only thing I'm really having trouble with is the 'older' part of this relationship."

"It wasn't Scott's right to tell you," Stiles pointed out.

"It wasn't," John agreed. "But I do want to know something about your life. How do I know that he isn't taking advantage? Or that he isn't using you? Or even hurting you?"

"I'm not a child," Stiles snapped.

"You are  _my_ child," John said firmly. "I don't even know  _who_  this man is, other than the fact both of you claim it isn't Chris Argent."

"Dad," Stiles sighed. "I - it's not a big deal. What's happening is just - if I thought I was in danger I wouldn't stay."

"Is that true?" John asked before he could stop himself. "Last time you told me how much you wanted someone to shoot you. I can't exactly take your word at face value on something like this right now."

"He isn't going to hurt me," Stiles said quietly. "I don't think he could. He - he can be dangerous, it'd be a lie to say he wasn't but dad - he's not a bad person, not to me."

John watched as his son fumbled over some of his words, how he had become less motionless as he spoke. It wasn't anywhere near the level of eagerness he would talk about Lydia, but there was something that he hadn't seen before in the teen. 

"You aren't going to tell me who it is, are you?"

"You'd shoot him," Stiles said with a hint of a smile. "Hell, if it was before everything and he was doing this to someone else -  _I'd_  shoot him. I misjudged him though dad, well, maybe not before but recently I have."

"How much older is he?" John asked.

"I don't know?" Stiles responded, the one time in the past having asked Peter, he hadn't received a true answer. "I guess he's about Chris' age?"

"Should I be concerned that Chris Argent is just Chris?" John asked with a sigh.

"He's a good guy," Stiles shrugged. "As much as his weaponry would suggest otherwise. He gave me a copy of his supernatural hunting lore as well, and said that you should probably have access to the information once I've rewritten it from evil hunter words."

"Anyone hurts you -"

"You'll hurt them," Stiles finished with a grin.

"Exactly, tell your boyfriend that," John nodded, pushing himself from Stiles' bed and heading towards the door. He didn't notice how Stiles had pinkened at the wording, and he ignored the stuttered protest as he left. Even if this man was older, he was just a boyfriend.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The next day, after scouring through a portion of Chris' notes, Stiles found himself back at Peter's apartment, body heavy with exhaustion from the day.

"You are allowed to call me when you're home," Peter pointed out, opening his arms for Stiles to stumble into. 

"It was late and you didn't want to hear the rambling," Stiles groaned, letting most of his weight lean against Peter's body. "I didn't want to hear the rambling," he added.

"There is nothing wrong with your rambling."

"There is when it involves the word ' _boyfriend_ ' for someone I call Daddy, that is old enough to be my own father," Stiles said, screwing up his nose as he buried his face into Peter's neck. "My stupid dad having to say it because of stupid Scott."

"Oh dear," Peter said softly. "What happened?"

As much as Stiles had said he didn't want to ramble to Peter, he did tell him everything that had happened. It was a relief to explain it completely to someone without omitting details. Plus, Peter's continuous presence and touch helped tremendously for Stiles to stay calm when thinking about how bad it could have gone because of Scott's intervention.

"He is an idiot darling," Peter said as he ran a hand up Stiles' back.

"Thank you for the food by the way," Stiles said, pushing back to look at Peter. "You didn't need to -"

"I made extra," Peter shrugged, grinning at Stiles' skeptical gaze. "I do have something to tell you though," he continued, his tone turning more serious. "I won't be around tomorrow, or most of Saturday, you are free to come here, but -"

"It'll be empty," Stiles frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to meet Sharron and go over the biggest changes in the company," Peter explained. "I don't expect it taking the whole two days but it's better to be prepared. It won't take longer, so I'll be back Saturday night."

"What happens after this meeting?" Stiles asked, taking Peter's hand and pulling him to the couch the best he could.

"I'll do work when I have the time," Peter shrugged, letting Stiles lead him with a small grin.

"That's good, sit please?"

With a shake of his head, Peter did as he was asked, sitting with a grace that Stiles couldn't often find. It was one of the things that Stiles loved, how effortlessly everything seemed to look when Peter did it. 

"Comfy?" Stiles asked.

"I suppose," Peter chuckled. "What are you -"

Stiles didn't let him finish, he stepped closer, pressing one knee to the side of Peter on the couch before moving so he was straddling Peter's thighs. He licked his lips as Peter's hands came to rest on his waist.

"Just what does my little boy want?" Peter asked quietly, his voice a low rumble.

"You?"

"Ah, ah," Peter shook his head. "You'll need to do better than  _that_  sweetheart."

"Peter," Stiles whined, ducking his head as the man tutted. "I just want  _you_."

"Nothing in particular?" Peter questioned, slipping his thumbs under Stiles' T-shirt. "It isn't all that often you choose to climb on top of me after all." Peter watched, noting how Stiles had more colour on his face than normal.

"I'm going to miss you, is that weird?"

"Oh darling," Peter smiled, "I'll only be a message away."

"I'm used to you being here though, if I need you," Stiles pointed out. Sure, he had gone longer than two days without seeing Peter since they had begun their... relationship, but Peter not being in the same town would be something completely different. "What if something happens?"

"If something happens, you will handle it," Peter said so surely that Stiles wanted to believe him. "If you can't, or you want back-up, you have the two girls by your side," Peter added, reminding Stiles that he hadn't lost  _everyone_  and even if Peter wasn't around, he still had people willing to do what they could. "And, heaven forbid it comes to it, there is even Christopher. He won't let anything bad happen, you know this."

Stiles nodded, knowing he was being irrational and ridiculous even before he had admitted to Peter how he felt. He knew how much Peter  _wanted_  to do something again, how he wanted to check on the firm and shadow Sharron until he was sure everything was still up to par. 

"You are thinking much too loudly," Peter said quietly before pressing a kiss to Stiles' forehead. "If you want, I can arrange -"

"No," Stiles said quickly, cutting off Peter's offer. "No, don't do that. I'm ok. I'm just being sil-" Peter cut him off with a finger to the lips.

"You are nervous, which is understandable," he filled in. "Your emotions are not silly, or stupid, or whatever bad thing you want to say about them. You shouldn't put yourself down because of emotions you cannot control."

"Really," Stiles said, leaning back a little to move Peter's hand away from his face. "It's fine. You don't need to do anything because I'll miss you and because I'm nervous. I'm constantly nervous."

Peter considered pointing out the lie, he very nearly did. As much as Stiles did often have an undercurrent of anxiety surrounding him, he had gotten better at separating it during the time he was with Peter. It wasn't much, and sometimes he needed a little push to let it go, but it was a vast difference to what he had carried beforehand. Still, Peter doubted Stiles was ready to face that fact. Peter let his free hand drift back to Stiles' waist as he considered his next move. He considered talking to Christopher, but he came to the conclusion that would only cause Stiles more anxiety if he had found out, after all, he still seemed cautious about the man's reaction to the elevator footage. He wasn't in a position to talk to either Lydia or Malia, nor could he talk to Stiles' father. Peter decided, even if he didn't fully agree, to let Stiles handle it. Peter would, of course, be available if Stiles called or sent a message, but he would ultimately trust Stiles to care for himself - which shouldn't be such a difficult thing to accept. Peter knew how capable Stiles could be, how ruthless he could be, but there was a part of him that held his own anxiety about what could possibly happen. 

Stiles leant forward, pressing his lips against Peter's for the briefest of seconds.

"Now you're thinking too loudly," he muttered, a small smile on his face.

"Brat," Peter grinned.

That one single word changed Stiles' emotional state. It was said with such warmth and fondness that he couldn't stop a true smile overtaking his whole face. As much as Stiles didn't want to admit it out loud, Peter  _had_  changed him. Just thinking about the man made him grin, it made him feel lighter, worth something. Peter had never really shot down his ideas, nor told him he was stupid or too loud or too annoying or anything along those lines in a serious manner. Peter made him feel good, and not just in what they did together, even when they were apart. A simple message, or even something that sparked a memory would influence Stiles' mood. It made him feel capable of anything he wanted to do. Peter did that. The man that had been so ruthless and prepared to kill all in his path - the one that had changed that thought process and offered to kill those that hurt Stiles. Stiles couldn't ignore it, even if he wanted to, not when it all lined up so clearly in front of him. Especially not when Peter was right  _there_.

"I... I like you," Stiles admitted, his heart beating a little too fast for his own liking as he forced his verbal filter into place.

"I like you as well darling," Peter replied, completely honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said porn, but it's the next chapter, and to make up for it the next chapter is a longer one as well, purely because I couldn't stop.


	41. Building Blocks

"Stand up for me," Peter said softly, having run a hand over Stiles' shoulder when they had finished eating. "I want you to take your shirt off, and stand and wait for me to return," he continued, "Just the top."

Stiles nodded, trying not to let Peter moving his hand away damper his mood, not when there was something like this to look forward to. Stiles waited for a second, before his hands when to the bottom of his T-shirt. In one fluid movement, Stiles had pulled it over his head. Biting his lip, Stiles shook his top out before folding it. He didn't quite know if Peter was still in the room, or if he had left, but he didn't want to leave a mess. Without glancing back towards where Peter had left, Stiles put the top on the table, taking care not to scrunch it up. Stiles stood slowly, knowing that Peter would be listening if he wasn't back already. Not wanting to ruin the illusion, Stiles kept his back to the doorway, even as he moved away from the table.

Peter grinned as he returned, Stiles stood with his feet shoulder length apart. His hands were by his side, fingers brushing against the fabric of his jeans. Peter couldn't stop the pleasure in the fact Stiles had kept his back facing the entrance, showing his trust in the man, nor in the fact the boy hadn't just thrown his clothing across the room.

"That's good," Peter said, stepping forward until he was within Stiles' eyesight.

Stiles watched as Peter's eyes ran over his body. A small part of Stiles wanted to cover himself, to pull his top back onto his chest, hiding himself from view. He fidgeted in place, swaying slightly from foot to foot as Peter smirked.

"How're you doing?" Peter asked, stepping closer to Stiles. He watched carefully as Stiles' eyes widened slightly, his gaze moving to the black rope in Peter's hand. There we no noticeable changes in the boy, the arousal building on its own. "Any objections?" he asked, lifting the rope slightly.

"What are you planning?" Stiles asked.

"I was going to tie your hands behind your back, and then have my way with you," Peter said lightly. "I don't quite want to ruin the surprise just yet, I would rather keep you in anticipa -"

"That's cool, I'm down for that," Stiles interrupted. With a chuckle, Peter walked around Stiles, a hand on his arm to stop him turning to keep facing Peter. Peter let his hand run down Stiles' arm.

"Next time darling," Peter hummed. "I want your hands like this," he explained, moving the rope to the side as he took both of Stiles' hands and placed them as he wanted. Both behind his back with one hand behind the other with the thumbs laced. "This is how I'd prefer you to wait," he said softly. "Thumbs laced like this, I don't mind which hand is on the top, but the military prefers your left in front."

"You know military stances?" Stiles frowned.

"I know a lot of ways people can stand comfortably and still look pretty," Peter chuckled. "Your hands should be above your waist as well, however high is comfortable." Stepping back, he left Stiles standing at ease, just so Peter had time to collect the rope once again. "I want you to try and not move while I do this," Peter explained, taking one of Stiles' hands and wrapping the rope partly around it. He pulled Stiles' other hand closer, wrapping the rope tighter around both. Peter worked slowly, taking care to not cause Stiles any pain or discomfort as he wrapped the rope around his wrists and then between them to stop him pulling free. "This too tight?" he asked before he did the knot.

"No, that's ok," Stiles said, twisting his hands slightly and feeling how restricted they were. "I'll tell you if it hurts."

"If your fingers go numb or cold, tell me right away," Peter said seriously, tying the knot before stepping back.

"Ok," Stiles nodded, wriggling his fingers.

"Knee's," Peter suggested.

"How?" Stiles asked, his eyes wide. "I'll fall!"

"Step back with one leg, put your knee on the floor and then bring the other down with you," Peter explained, he watched as Stiles did it. Kneeling down without falling forward onto his knees with force. "That's a good boy," Peter grinned. He wound a hand into Stiles' hair and pulled him backwards slightly, settling to rest back on his calves. "Spread your knees a little, keep your feet close together."

Stiles did as he was told, already starting to harden in his boxers. He made a soft noise in his throat as Peter walked away, he pulled one of the dining chairs from the table and turned it to face Stiles. Sitting on it, the man watched Stiles with his legs spread slightly. The boy wasn't that far away, not close enough to touch without leaning forward, but enough that Stiles would have to shuffle closer to touch him.

"You look good like that," Peter spoke casually. "Stand up for me?" he asked, grinning at Stiles' huff as he shakily stood in almost the same way he had knelt down. "Come over here."

Stiles did as he was told, licking his lips, he couldn't wait for what Peter had planned. He would be happy with just Peter's hands on his body, even if it meant that his cock was left neglected - granted, he wouldn't tell Peter that fact. He just wanted Peter close.

"Bend over the table," Peter said once Stiles was nearby. He pushed a chair beside him out of the way with his foot, making room for Stiles to take a step closer. "Cheek flat and your legs straight," he added when Stiles bent slightly at the waist.

"I won't be able to stay like this," Stiles warned, keeping his knees straight as he pressed his cheek against the cool wood.

"You shouldn't be there for very long," Peter assured him, a hand on the back of his thigh. "I just want to give you a little something before we really get started."

"Before -"

Peter shushed him, cutting off Stiles' question. He stood, moving the chair as he made his way behind Stiles, able to hear the way the boy's heart stuttered. Reaching around, Peter undid the button to Stiles' jeans, slowly pulling the zipper down as he brushed his hands against the outline of Stiles cock, earning a soft whine. In a smooth motion, Peter pulled down both Stiles jeans and boxers, revealing Stiles' ass, he watched as the clothes pooled at Stiles' feet, the tips of his socks peeking out from the pile around his ankles.

Stiles jumped when Peter's hand touched his bare skin, not of disgust or fear, but because the action shocked him. When he felt Peter hesitate against him, Stiles did his best to press back into the touch. Moving a hand to each of Stiles' ass cheeks, Peter squeezed, delighting in the shaky breath Stiles took. Leaning forward, Peter could resist biting at the pale skin, making a note to do more of that in the future as Stiles’ body jerked.

“If I have teeth marks on –”

“Now darling, don’t make me gag that pretty mouth while I get you ready,” Peter chuckled quietly, pressing a kiss to the red mark. Stiles had let out a quiet whine when Peter suggested the gag, giving Peter a range of possibilities. “That’s better,” Peter hummed when Stiles kept his words to himself.

Peter pulled the other items he had collected along with the rope, from his pocket. There was a few small packets of lube, as well as a medium sized butt plug inside of a small sleeve to keep it clean.

Peter kept his movement silent as Stiles tried his best to stay still. It didn’t work, not since Stiles couldn’t seem to ever stay stationary, the way his hands twisted and grasped at air even without being able to move; the way that he couldn’t help but sway his weight from each foot, making his ass move in such an inviting way. Stiles did, however, still when Peter’s hand touched his side.

“Do you need something to hold?” Peter asked gently.

“I’m good,” Stiles protested.

“You’re grasping at air,” Peter pointed out amused.

“I’m waiting for you to get a fucking move o-” the word dissolved into a broken moan as Peter’s hand made an impact against Stiles’ bare skin.

“Do you want to repeat that?” Peter asked, brushing his fingers over the already pinkened skin, slightly tempted to pull the burn from underneath.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” Stiles groaned, his breath heavier than it had been when he had sworn, trying to egg Peter into motion. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You really shouldn’t have,” Peter agreed. He continued to trace the outline of his handprint, whilst he used his other hand to grip one of the lube packets before tearing it open with his teeth. Stiles’ heart took off once again as he heard the rip of the packet, and didn’t calm as Peter moved his hands away to coat a few of his fingers. With his unlubricated hand, Peter squeezed one of Stiles’ ass cheeks.

Stiles closed his eyes at the pressure, his cheek warming the wood beneath it as his breath was heavier than he felt it should be with how little Peter was actually doing. There was a moment where Stiles did feel himself tense, even before he realised just what Peter had done.

“You need to relax,” Peter murmured, his clean hand reaching up to rub Stiles’ hip. His other hand trying to coax Stiles to let him in.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Peter chuckled. “You can’t see what I’m doing so it was a shock.”

“I expected something like this,” Stiles huffed.

“I’m sure you did,” Peter agreed, managing to slip one finger in as Stiles let out a breathy noise. “You are my smart boy after all.” It wasn’t long before Peter had added another finger, enjoying the steady stream of Stiles’ moans as he brushed against his prostate.

"Please," Stiles said quietly, barely audible over the blood in his own ears.

"Just a little louder darling," Peter requested with a smile, still thrusting his fingers in and out of Stiles' ass.

"Pl - please Da - daddy," Stiles gasped out, trying to dislodge the hand on his back so he could push back against Peter's fingers.

"Patience is a good trait," Peter teased, even as he pulled his hand away from Stiles, listening to the broken cry of dismay. He kept one hand on Stiles' back, preventing him from standing upright. "Stay right there darling," he added when Stiles tried to stand up. "We're almost done for now."

"Please," Stiles repeated, his breath heavy. "I need -"

Peter shushed him, moving his hands completely away to put more lube on the plug as he watched Stiles' ass sway as he picked back up the constant movements. It was cute in the sense that Peter hadn't had a partner that was constantly in motion since his own youth, he had thought that it would be something he would despise, yet in Stiles, it was charming. It fit him so perfectly that he couldn't say that anything about Stiles was  _wrong_. 

“I –”

“Darling, if you don’t stay quiet, I will gag you,” Peter warned, he replaced his hand on Stiles’ back, holding him steady. Peter, with a steady hand, slowly began to ease the plug into Stiles. Stiles whined quietly as the plug stretched him.

“Too much?”

“No – just – it feels different,” Stiles gasped. “It’s – ah -” the words cut off into a moan as the plug slipped in completely.

Curious as to just what noises Stiles would make, and much too impatient to wait, Peter slowly pulled it out of Stiles, before pushing it back in, the image of the plug and the sinful noises Stiles made both blending together so nicely. Moving back, the sight of Stiles’ ass shaking was also a view Peter would happily watch until he was forced to stop.

“You can stand up again,” he said with a smirk.

“Wh – what?” Stiles groaned, “I can’t –”

“You can’t what?” Peter asked. “Be a good boy for me? That is a shame,” he teased, grinning at Stiles’ whine of protest. “Come on darling, be a good boy.”

Stiles couldn’t stop the groan as he pushed himself up, feeling slightly off balance with his hands behind his back. He felt the plug shift inside of him as he stood, making him stay slightly bent at the waist. It was a different feeling to his other toys – well, to the dildo he had and to how Peter’s own cock had felt.

“That’s it,” Peter grinned. “Back onto your knees now, near the chair again,” he directed.

Stiles managed to keep most of the noises and hums of discomfort to himself as slowly got to his knees, trying not to move in a way that would be too uncomfortable. He waited for Peter to sit back in the chair before leaning forward and pressing his forehead to Peter's knee.

"How're you doing?" Peter asked softly.

"Peachy," Stiles grinned.

"Uncomfortable?" Peter added.

"Not really," Stiles said softly as Peter's hand ran through his hair. "Just a different feeling."

Peter hummed as he took a hold of Stiles' hair, lifting his head slowly away from Peter's knee. With his other hand, Peter undid his own pants, watching as Stiles' eyes were glued to the action. It did an unhealthy amount of good for Peter's ego, the way that Stiles was so willing to just listen and follow him.

“Open up for me,” Peter said as he pulled his cock from his pants. It was flattering really, how Stiles’ arousal spiked and his mouth dropped open in an instant. Moving slowly, as to not hurt him, Peter pulled Stiles forward by the hair.

Stiles managed to keep the noise he wanted to make from feeling unbalanced as Peter pulled him forward, guiding his head to where he wanted it. Just like before, Stiles was slightly shocked at the stretch he felt in his jaw. In the position he was in, there wasn’t much Stiles could actually do, not without his hands or without free movement of his head. Stiles settled for sucking and moving his tongue the best he could.

Much to Peter’s amusement Stiles had let out a puff of air through his nose when he tried to move forward, taking Peter deeper, even as the movement pulled at his hair. It was adorable how Stiles looked up through his lashes at him, the small defiance shining within his eyes. Giving in, Peter released his grip, giving Stiles more freedom to move as he wanted to.

Peter’s hand did tighten again around Stiles’ hair as the teen groaned. The movement of leaning forward having jostled the plug. The sound had caused a vibration around his cock, tempting him with the idea of just pushing Stiles’ head down a little more to see how far Stiles could take it.  _Not yet_. He could wait for that. Peter did, however, guide Stiles’ head, letting the boy find the best bobbing motion that mixed Peter’s pleasure with Stiles’ own moans as his movements made the plug shift. At least this time, Stiles managed to control his breathing.

“I’m going to tell you now,” Peter said slowly, trying to keep himself calm as he spoke. “I was going to let you cum, I did plan on pulling that plug out of your ass and then fucking you, however,” Peter paused to take a breath. “That cheek earlier means you aren’t g- _oh_ -ing to cum,” Peter’s hand tightened again, drawing another moan from Stiles. “I’m tempted to say you aren’t allowed to touch yourself until I come back either.”

Peter didn’t let Stiles pull back, even as he made a noise of protest.

“Ah, ah,” Peter tutted breathlessly. “We’re almost there.”

Peter let himself get lost in the motion of Stiles. The almost constant vibration around his cock as the younger male moaned and groaned. Peter let himself drift slightly, wondering how Stiles would sound as he was being fucked with an additional cock in his mouth to muffle the noises. He had no doubt it would be delightful, especially since Stiles was so sinfully delicious with just a stationary plug in him. Perhaps one that vibrated would be the next step, before they could add another warm blooded person - or  _the_  one warm blooded person they both seemed to be ok with. Having seen how Stiles reacted to Christopher, he really couldn't wait until the man gave in, it would be entertaining in so many ways. No doubt it would be overwhelming for him as well, the mewls he would make, and the way his body would twist and turn into whatever was happening. 

Peter could feel his orgasm building and he did nothing to stop it, encouraging Stiles to move slightly faster, taking him slightly deeper into his mouth before Peter's orgasm hit, flooding Stiles' mouth. Stiles did manage to swallow most of it, even as Peter moved his hand away from Stiles' hair, letting him pull back.

"You weren't being serious, were you?" Stiles asked after a moment, his voice rough.

"Completely serious darling," Peter smirked. "Shall we take the plug out now or in a little while after you calm down."

"So you can make me all horny again later?" Stiles asked, glaring as Peter adopted an innocent look. "You suck," Stiles groaned.


	42. Getting Ready For The Extra Surprise

Stiles let himself into Peter's apartment, frowning at the silence around him. The whole place seemed so empty without Peter being there. Unsure of just when Peter would get back, Stiles had headed straight to the bedroom, having kicked his shoes off by the door. He had a plan, and a bag. There was a nervous energy around him, perhaps one that had stuck since Stiles spent the night with Peter. Peter had stuck to his word, letting Stiles calm down before he removed the butt plug, and then keeping him calm and nowhere near close to an orgasm, even when Stiles had whined.

Even though Peter hadn't said it beyond his light-hearted threat, Stiles had stopped himself from wrapping his hand around his cock several times over the past day and a half. He couldn't help think back over what had happened, nor what would probably happen when Peter got back. Stiles had even gotten lost in his fantasies at school, drawing Malia's attention, who had gleefully told Lydia about the strong aroused scent following him. Of course, faced with that, Stiles had tentatively explained his own plan to surprise Peter when he returned.

Stiles could feel his hands shake, he didn't bother closing the bedroom door, he was positive that Peter would still be an hour at the least. It was more than enough time to figure out how to get dressed. He hadn't even touched the box the clothes had come in, not since he took them home out of Peter's reach just in case he felt the need to peek inside. Stiles had stuffed the box into his bag, along with another change of clothes for the next day, he was still burning his nervous energy as he dumped his bag on Peter’s bed. He shouldn’t be nervous, he tried to reason with himself, he had plenty of time, and if it didn’t look good, he could just get changed and Peter would never know about the failed attempt at seduction.

Taking a breath, Stiles sat next to his bag, opening it up. The outfit was a two-piece, or perhaps a three-piece if you counted the stockings as a separate part. Stiles bit his lip as he pulled the items from his bag. There was the bra, the straps and the edges of the cups made from a black mesh material, the actual cups and straps that would wrap around his back were a pink plaid, brighter pink with a lighter shade to highlight it along with thin black lines. The bra wasn’t padded, merely fabric, which wouldn’t give anyone the illusion that Stiles actually _had_ breasts at all. Next, Stiles pulled out the skirt. An inch of the bottom of the skirt was covered in the same black mesh as the bra, there was also a section at the top of the skirt, that would hug his waist that also had a thicker version of the mesh. Between the two black areas, was the same pink plaid as the bra, that same that fit the heels he had bought to go along with the outfit as well. The stockings themselves, and the panties that came with the skirt were both a lacy black, somewhat thin enough that you would be able to see the skin through the material. It was all pretty, so pretty that Stiles was actually nervous to try it on. Sure, it would look great on someone but he wasn’t entirely sure that he fit the criteria for that. Was there even a _type_ of person that would benefit for these clothes? Or was it all in the confidence, so many people claimed that it was the confidence that was attractive, in which case, Stiles probably didn’t have a chance.

Shaking his head, he tried to stop the unhelpful commentary. He didn’t need to worry, there was time and Peter had reacted in a hugely positive way the last time Stiles had attempted to dress up. The worst that would happen is Stiles getting changed and spending time cuddling with Peter until he felt ready to rejoin the world, it isn’t like Peter to hold onto something that makes him uncomfortable.

Feeling somewhat calmer, Stiles pulled his clothes off. There was no finesse in the act, hesitant hands almost tearing the fabrics from his body. He didn’t bother with buttons, having worn slightly baggy clothes that he could slip down his legs and over his head. Standing in his boxers, he cast another look to the garments he had brought, he didn’t know just how to get them on, but he would try his best. Stiles itched to call Lydia, maybe she could coach him through the phone on the best way to put on a bra – surely, _she_ had experience whereas he didn’t. It couldn’t be that hard, Stiles frowned as he picked up the bra. He had seen the article of clothing on enough people and mannequins that he knew how it _should_ look. The arms go through the holes, and the strap is fastened behind the back, but how were you meant to fasten it without looking? Surely it couldn’t be that difficult.

Sighing in defeat, Stiles pulled out his phone from his bag. He opened YouTube and searched for help, he didn’t want to give Lydia the ammunition. He watched diligently as the women in the video showed him two methods, one a fraction more difficult than the other. Settling for the easier method, as he was less likely to mess it up, Stiles wrapped the bra around him, the cups to his back as he fastened the clasp in front of him, he turned the whole thing around before slipping his arms into the straps. It wasn’t _that_ difficult at all. Reaching back, he undid the clasp with clumsy fingers before trying to reattach it, just to see if he could. It took much longer but, in the end, he managed to hook all of the clasps with a small noise of victory. There was a fairly large part of him that was grateful he was alone when doing that, he wasn’t quite sure he would have been able to pull it off as smoothly with the pressure of somebody else watching.

Stiles refused to look into the mirror until he was done, but just the knowledge of having step one completed filled him with a renewed energy. He could get it done, and he would look great for it. He pushed his boxers down, letting his ass wriggle slightly as he did so. Stiles did pause, grabbing his phone again to put something on as background noise, scrunching his nose as he searched for a song. Stiles gently tossed his phone back on the bed, the preppy music surrounding him as he grabbed the skirt and the panties. He slipped into the panties, unable to stop a slight shiver as they brushed up his legs. The skirt was slightly trickier, but still, fairly straight forward, he pulled it up his legs, doing his best not to disrupt how the underwear sat against him, and that the dangling straps to hook onto the stockings were still accessible. When they were in place, Stiles had the biggest urge to spin in place, just to see if the skirt would do the twirling thing. Even half-way done, he felt good.

Still not wanting to ruin the full effect, Stiles fell back onto the bed, picking up a stocking and frowning. Once again, he felt like he should know how to put them on, but there was the slight uncertainty around it, like females in general – or just people that wore these, had their own way of putting them on. Biting his cheek, Stiles decided to just go for it, he knew how to put on longer socks, so it couldn’t be any different. He gathered the length of the stocking, leaving the area for his toes more accessible before he slipped his foot in, unable to stop himself wriggling his toes against the lace. Slowly, Stiles pulled the stocking up his leg, transfixed with the glide of it against his skin. He stood up, fiddling with the straps from the skirt in an attempt to attach them, luckily the ones that he had bought just clipped into place. With a grin, and even more excitement, Stiles did the same for the other leg, gathering the stocking up before slowly drawing it up his leg and attaching it to the skirt.

Unable to help it, Stiles bound forward to Peter’s mirror, once again thankful for the man’s low-level vanity with his full-length mirror. Stiles’ left his breath over at the bed rather than bringing it with himself to see just how he looked, and damn, he actually looked _good_. The addition of Stiles’ shy but proud smile added to the image, making him look a lot more innocent than the outfit suggested. He turned this way and that way before the mirror, seeing how he looked from all angles, even going as far as to bend over and see just how his ass looked with the short skirt and the lace underneath.

With a wide grin, Stiles stuffed his other clothes back into his bag. He definitely wouldn’t be needing them, not yet. Stiles was a little nervous about putting the heels on, he had seen Malia when she had worn them the first time. Lydia had said he had made a slightly bad choice with the thin heels, as they wouldn’t be easier to adjust to. Deciding to take the leap, preferably before Peter came back, Stiles put on the heels, hoping to sort out his own bumps with the shoes before falling in front of Peter or something equally disastrous. Knowing his own luck, Stiles had the image of himself falling and somehow managing to blow the apartment up which wouldn’t be the fun sexy times Stiles had planned.

Stiles fastened the heels, taking his time to stand up, aware that he was wobbling. Stiles mentally give himself kudos for putting them on now and not later on. He just needed to get the stumbling out of his system, _although_ , if Peter were here, he would be able to catch him if he fell.

No matter, Stiles had this. He was the man – a dressed up man, or rather a teenage man if he was being truthful but he was still a man. Granted, Stiles was tempted to take Lydia’s ‘ _lay somewhere and look pretty_ ’ to heart, unsure if he would even manage to make it out of the room without falling. With outstretched arms, Stiles tried to walk, prepared to fall and catch himself. As he took his time, he managed not to fall, although it meant paying so much attention to his feet, which was a strange feeling. Taking his time, after grabbing his phone, Stiles made his way to Peter’s kitchen.

He deserved a drink, he really wanted a nice cool glass of water, maybe even juice. He set his phone down on the counter, grabbing a glass as he let his hips sway to the music. He wasn’t moving as he normally would, too wary about knocking himself off balance. After the drink, Stiles experimented more, widening his stance as he continued to sway, his eyes closing as he got into it. He mouthed the words, turning slowly before placing a hand on the counter and using it as a rail to walk forwards, taking care to sway his hips as if he was on a catwalk. A more immature part of Stiles’ mind urged him to do the slut-drop – which he knew that the heels wouldn’t handle. There was just no way that Stiles could squat quickly and not break his neck. Stiles turned, preparing to catwalk back when he stepped unevenly, his ankle wobbling before Stiles began to fall away from the counter. His eyes flew open, as he tried to grab the counter, unluckily, his hand did not grasp tightly, and he found himself falling.

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you view it, Stiles’ fall was cut short as an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him upright again.

“Holy shit,” Stiles gasped, grabbing hold of his saviour. “Jesus, you are early but goddamn thank you,” he laughed.

“You were expecting me?” Chris asked, half a smirk on his face as Stiles looked up in horror. “Speaking of which –”

Chris couldn’t continue as a quiet rumble seemed to echo through Stiles’ body. He found himself shivering, moving closer to Chris’ body, or to the warmth as his brain helpfully supplied.

At the doorway, Peter was stood, his eyes a luminescent blue. Stiles could see how Peter was focused solely on him, and it did send a slight chill down his spine. There was something truly animalistic in how he stood.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised that I have spent so long writing about him getting dressed and I'm a little upset but also not.  
> Here is the Outfit and Shoes and I really hope I did them justice and they are so cute and pretty;  
>  [Shoes](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/343498883311206401/351499892126121987/image.jpg)  
>  [Outfit](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/343498883311206401/351499868490956812/image.jpg)


	43. Princess

“ _Hale_ , calm down,” Chris hissed. The roughness in his voice startled Stiles’ gaze away from the wolf, and Stiles noticed Peter’s attention shifting slightly from him to the hunter. There were a few long seconds before Peter’s eyes dimmed once again.

“You have a habit of surprising me,” Peter said slowly, he made an effort to relax his stance, giving Stiles a smile. “Christopher, I am in complete control.”

“At least he isn’t fang-y,” Stiles offered, drawing the attention back to himself. He felt Chris’ hold on him tighten momentarily which brought a blush to his face as he realised just _what_ he was wearing as he was pressed against the man. “Jesus, ok, I have it from here -“

“You almost fell holding onto the side,” Chris said, his eyebrow raised as he kept hold of a squirming Stiles.

“That isn’t my fault!” Stiles hissed.

“Really?” Chris deadpanned. “So someone forced you into all this?”

“Now Christopher, don’t ruin the surprise,” Peter sighed. He took a step forward, cocking an eyebrow as Chris pulled Stiles further behind him. “Are you really going to play this game?” Peter asked, the amusement trickling into his voice. “Why don’t you just step aside and let me have my treat all to myself? We wouldn’t want to offend your delicate morality.”

Stiles smirked to himself amongst the blush, trust Peter to push Chris. He twisted out of Chris’ hold, moving to face Peter. Once again, Stiles couldn’t help but freeze under the scrutiny. Peter’s grin grew as he slowly looked over the vision that was Stiles. There was none of the wolf, not visible to Stiles anyhow, even as Peter strided forward.

Chris cut him off, stepping around Stiles to grasp the other man’s arm as he sent a sharp look to Peter, verging on a glare as he hissed something Stiles barely heard, "You better not have knotted him."

"Oh Christopher, do you really think so lowly of me?" Peter drawled. Stiles shifted under Peter’s focus, unsure if he actually heard the right thing come from Chris’ mouth - it was impossible, _wasn’t it_? Surely that would be something he needed to know – how would that even work? Stiles had _seen_ Peter, there was nothing… abnormal about him, or not that Stiles noticed. Would that even be something Peter wanted? It isn’t something that would be taken lightly, but then again, _they_ were used for breeding and Stiles couldn’t exactly bread in that sense, it would be useless.

“You just shifted,” Chris pointed out, drawing Stiles out of his running thoughts.

“A minor lapse in judgement,” Peter said, with a wave of his hand as if the whole thing was something forgettable. “Now, _darling_ ,” he purred, looking beyond Chris’ shoulder to see Stiles’ growing pink face. "This is _truly_ something. If I knew you were planning this I'd have told Christopher of the dress code."

Chris watched as Peter shot him a wink, without looking, Chris knew that Stiles’ face would be reddened. Fighting his urge to peek, Chris wondered if the blush would spread down the boy's chest.

“I’m going to just get changed,” Stiles mumbled, taking a step back. The sound and the motion brought Chris’ attention back to him. The man’s eyes running over his body, making Stiles shift in place, there was a heat behind Chris’ eyes that seemed out of place, one that was more reasonable on Peter.

“Oh, don’t bother, we don't mind baby boy, do we Christopher?" Peter smirked.

There was a moment of silence, Chris just continued to stare at Stiles, who continued until he was a brilliantly bright red, the blush managing to spread down his chest, much to Chris’ internal delight. It was as if Peter’s ever-growing smirk seemed to pull Chris from whatever dark corner of his mind he had been stuck in.

“Do you often dress up like this?” Chris asked, enjoying the squeak the question got from Stiles.

“He asked you a question darling,” Peter grinned. “Is _this_ something you do a lot?”

“N - no,” Stiles blushed, shifting in place again.

“That isn’t _completely_ true,” Peter teased. “Is it?”

“Peter,” Stiles hissed. He refused to look at Chris, unsure of what he would find.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed,” Peter chuckled. “I’m sure Christopher has seen a lot more than a little boy dressed up.”

“Peter,” Chris sighed, sounding the complete oppose of his initial ‘ _Hale_ ’, he sounded almost fond of the wolf.

“Try and deny it,” Peter prompted smugly, “I’ll just hear the lie.”

“Shut it,” Chris said, no hint of harshness or annoyance in his tone.

Stiles shifted in place, once again tempted to backstep out of the room. There were two problems with that idea; first, the exit was behind the two men; and second, the heels he wore would alert them of his attempt at a stealthy retreat, which wouldn’t be stealthy at all. He just didn’t quite want to be right there in that moment just now. Not when Peter and Chris were both looking at him with such an intensity that made Stiles want to burrow back into Peter’s blankets.

With an even wider grin, Peter stepped closer to Chris, leaning over and talking softly, “"it's such a shame you can't smell just how sweat he is." He said it softly enough that the illusion was there of him speaking solely to Chris, but there was a glint in Peter’s eyes as Stiles overheard.

“I’m going,” Stiles said, trying to project the confidence in his voice, even though he knew that either of them telling him to stay would keep him in place.

“I’ll be right along darling,” Peter replied breezily, tilting his head towards the door.

Licking his lips, Stiles nodded. He stopped himself hunching over, as he bit his lip. Steady steps, without looking at either man but knowing they were looking at him, Stiles slowly made his way past them without stumbling.

"Jeez," Chris breathed to himself once Stiles was out of the room.

"Just so you know Christopher," Peter said before he could leave, because Peter knew that once Chris was out of the kitchen, he would be out of the apartment. Unwilling to let him go with _just_ what he saw, he wanted to give the other man a little to work with on his own. "I'm not going to undress him, I'm just going to turn that skirt up, move those panties that he is more than likely wearing aside and push right in. It really is such a shame you aren't sticking around for your turn." Peter smirked as Chris' breath stuttered and his heart raced, even more as the man's arousal surged. "Such a shame," he added.

"Maybe next time," Chris said before he could really think about it. He needed to get away from Peter, from _Stiles_. Even as he thought it, he couldn't help relaying just how Stiles had looked in that outfit, the pinkened skin from his blush and the wide, innocent eyes. The kid was just too innocent to ruin, no matter how much everything within Chris begged.

"Next time then," Peter agreed, happy with that result. Chris hadn’t thought it through before he spoke, and his stiff posture told as much when he realised just what he had offered. “We’ll both hold you to that. See yourself out as I collect my present,” Peter said flippantly, turning to follow Stiles’ escape path.

Chris stood still for a second, trying to get the image of Stiles from his mind. Sure, this one would join the image of Stiles in only Peter’s t-shirt, but Chris would do his best to deny it.

“ _Get off me!_ ” Stiles’ voice came through the apartment, stopping Chris’ thought of leaving. He made to follow Peter just to make sure that Peter _was_ in control before he froze at Stiles’ laughter, it was only a second before the laughter turned into a gasp. Part of Chris wanted to leave now, even as there was a much larger part of him that wanted to stay. A broken moan sealed the deal for Chris, he shook his head, pushing away the thoughts as he made his way to the door. He couldn’t do this, _next time_ – next time he would stay, but right now, he needed to leave before he truly did something stupid – or stupider than he had already by agreeing with Peter. 

Stiles, who had no idea that Chris had overheard him, pushed Peter back, and covered his neck with a hand. Peter had almost literally pounced on him, pushing him back against the wall and attacking his neck with such ferocity that Stiles couldn’t help the way his knees had buckled, nor the way he clung to Peter breathlessly. Stiles knew he looked debauched, especially with whatever Peter had done to his neck.

“Do you want to be my little prince today, or did you have another plan _princess_?” Peter enquired with a lewd grin, not giving Stiles any chance to recover. He preferred to stay one step ahead, especially in light of him feeling a step behind upon coming home to this. Peter enjoying how Stiles’ mouth fell open with an exhale, how his eyes closed, and his body shook. He took a few steps back, giving Stiles enough room between them to comfortably stand without touching the wall. “You dressed up so prettily for me princess, come a little closer so I can _really_ see you.”

The pink in Stiles’ cheeks complimented the brighter colour of his clothes. Peter hadn’t considered how nicely it would look to dress Stiles up, especially in the more _feminine_ outfits, they were designed to complement the figure and the completion. Perhaps, Peter mused, letting his eyes drift over the bra and the short skirt, perhaps he could take some time to dress Stiles up. Brighter colours would complement his skin tone, whereas darker colours would wash him out. The bolder, the better in some sense, even though Stiles would disagree with that fact, the boy much preferred the fuller tones, and the slightly dark colours in his day-to-day life.

“You’re staring,” Stiles frowned, fidgeting where he stood. “I should just take it -“

“You aren’t going anywhere dear,” Peter interrupted. “Spin for me, nice and slowly.” Peter let his head tilt to the side somewhat as he watched Stiles’ hesitant movement, the way he flattened his hands out and held the skirt by his side. The heels clicked against the floor as he turned, slow and uneven. The stockings drew Peter’s eyes up Stiles’ long legs, the black fabric letting Stiles’ pale skin peak between the gaps, leading to the strip of pale skin before the edge of the skirt started. There was even more lace on the edge of the skirt, Peter just wanted to bend Stiles forward and push the fabric higher to be a glimpse of what laid beneath, there was just a hint of even more black on the swell of his ass, promising a little more hidden away. It was beyond tempting, but Peter knew he had to keep his composure, there was no Chris around to pull him back. He had finally heard the click of the door signalling his departure.

“He almost stayed for you darling,” Peter admitted, wanting Stiles to know just what he had done. “The big,” he took a step forward, “bad,” another step, “hunter,” and now Peter was once again almost flush against Stiles body. “Almost stayed to help me take you apart. You, my darling boy, almost broke Christopher.”

“Stop,” Stiles huffed, trying to hide his proud grin.

“You should know,” Peter hummed, “I’m not going to be able to get the smell of him out of that room, maybe we should go and cover it in you.”

“Nah uh,” Stiles sounded through his laughter. “You can keep – _woah_!”

Stiles grasped onto Peter’s shoulders with vigour as Peter lifted him from where he stood. The man’s hands were supporting his thighs, encouraging him to wrap them around him.

“You were saying?” Peter drawled, and Stiles could see the amusement in his eyes.

“Show off,” Stiles teased before pressing a kiss to Peter’s lips, unable to help himself.

“Tease,” Peter muttered good-naturedly as Stiles withdrew. “The kitchen?”

“God no,” Stiles laughed, unaware of Peter’s eyes tracking his throat as he threw his head back. “Somewhere I won’t want to die of embarrassment please.”

“I’m tempted to bend you over, and just fuck you, maybe even against the wall,” Peter said, his eyes dark and eager as Stiles’ laugh trailed off. He pressed Stiles against the wall, holding his legs tightly so the boy couldn’t even attempt to slip away. A rouge grin spread across his face as Stiles’ hips began to rock against him, the hardness of his cock clear through the layers of clothes. 

“Peter,” Stiles huffed, or at least attempted to, the true feeling was nowhere to be found. The word had come out as more of a moan than anything frustrated.

“Now, now princess, don’t get impatient,” Peter chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, I know and I'm sorry. I just struggled to add more to this, so I ended it where I did and hopefully I can get back into it with full-blown smut, because where is the problem there? I've been caught up with work and it's made me a little less in the mood to write anything overly sexy time related, but I'm back, again I hope.
> 
> We'll have Peter slowly taking Stiles apart in his little pretty outfit! Then we have a Chris moment or two, which is already in the works.


	44. Is It Ok?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a month. I’m sorry but also NaNo was this month as well so that took priority (also means a new story on the horizon when it's all finished). Plus I needed a break and being back home is never good for my writing. 
> 
> Here is a continuation of the last chapter, and the next one will feature Chris, and he will get a bit of a treat! This is kind of my cheating for Steter Week, it's a smut day!

Stiles bounced on the bed where Peter had deposited him. With his limbs spread across the bed, Stiles looked, seeing Peter pull his T-shirt from his body in one fluid movement. It looked so simple, that Stiles had a moment of jealousy, remembering how he had fumbled with his own clothes, and yet Peter made it seem so flawless. It certainly didn’t help to see the expanse of skin that was beneath the shirt was so muscular.

“Don’t get lost darling,” Peter grinned, pulling Stiles attention away from his chest and back up to his face. There was that blush that Peter loved.

Stiles pulled his arms closer to himself, preparing to push himself up, he wanted his hands on that hunk of man before him. He really did. Just as he started to push himself up, Peter grasped one of his ankles and pulled him down the bed, making Stiles lose his footing, sprawling him out on the bed again. Not letting him recover, Peter crawled onto the bed, caging Stiles in. Stiles shivered, tilting his head as Peter pressed a kiss to his lips.

“All good?” Peter asked gently.

“Just fuck me already,” Stiles huffed, wrapping an arm around Peter’s neck in an attempt to pull him down for another kiss. He pouted when Peter tutted, the older man gently removing his arm and pressing it down against the bed.

“Don’t get impatient princess,” Peter warned lowly, earning a quiet whine. “Only good girls get what they want,” and that one word made Stiles tense before a shiver ran through him. _Interesting_ , and somewhat noteworthy but it wasn’t going to derail what he had planned. No, Peter had developed his own plan, and he couldn’t let himself get too distracted by the boy beneath him. Not before he really had his fill,  
Christopher was all around Stiles, and that just wouldn’t do.

Stiles watched eagerly as Peter undid his trousers, letting the fabric loosen around his waist showing the dark hair that disappeared below visibility. If he could, Stiles would gladly see Peter in a state of undress for as long as he could, perhaps it could be a mandatory thing, although Peter would probably want the same for him which might feel a little uncomfortable –

“Once again,” Peter huffed, leaning down onto the bed. “I don’t want you getting too lost in thought, understood?”

Stiles gave a shaky nod as Peter's warm hand brushed against his stomach, before encircling his hip. Stiles tilted his head slightly as Peter's mouth came closer, a frustrated exhale leaving when the older man’s lips didn’t detour in their path. He just wanted a kiss.

“You look delightful, you really do,” Peter murmured, his lips tracing the cups of the bra. “I could just eat you up.”

“I think that’s what Chris was worried _ah_ – about,” Stiles wriggled.

“You’d love me to eat you all up,” Peter teased, slowly pressing kisses down Stiles’ stomach, following the movements of his stomach as it quivered.

“I dis- disagree,” Stiles tried to say steadily. “Fuck, please – _Pe_ -”

Stiles threw his head back the best he could where he laid. Peter had lifted the skirt, leaving only the panties as a barrier as he rubbed his cheek and lips over the bulge. Even without the lingerie in the way, Stiles had a weakness for the feel of Peter’s facial head against him, plus it gave Peter the best chance to scent the boy.

“Mo – Mouth,” Stiles stuttered, his hand in Peter’s hair as the man held his hips against the bed. What Stiles really wanted was to move, to move against Peter in the way that would give him the best chance at feeling good. Peter had tried to teach Stiles some patience but whenever this much pleasure was involved, Stiles always struggled.

“Such a demanding little princess today,” Peter huffed, still with a smile on his face as he pulled away somewhat. He felt Stiles tense beneath him, and how the boy’s heart rate had spiked. “Why should I do what you want?”

“Because you –” Stiles cut himself off as soon as his head caught up to his mouth. There was no way he was anywhere near ready for _that_ can of worms. “I’m adorable?” He offered in a meeker voice.

“You really are,” Peter agreed seriously. “Adorable, tempting, a tease –”

“I am not –” Stiles started indigently.

“So you aren’t dressed next to nothing for everyone to see?” Peter interrupted, stilling Stiles before he could shift away. He was teasing, and he hoped that his thumbs brushing against Stiles’ bare skin would be enough to show that. “You didn’t wait for me to return knowing exactly what this would do? You didn’t even cozy up to Christopher when he came to your rescue?”

“He didn’t _come to my recuse_ ,” Stiles mocked.

“He didn’t?” Peter asked, exaggerating his shock. “There was no big bad wolf that was going to eat you?”

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” Stiles frowned. “I was looking forward to -.”

Peter had decided to stop Stiles’ sentence then and there. He moved away more before using his hands, which were still steadying the boy’s hips, to flip him onto his front. One hand moving to the small of Stiles’ back to stop him pushing himself up once he had settled again. Stiles did struggle against the hold, just a little, trying to push back before he admitted defeat.

“You are going to keep that impatient mouth shut before I gag you,” Peter said slowly, watching as Stiles’ hips hitched against the bed. “If you don’t, I will tie you up and leave you here, then you will have no chance of getting fucked by anyone.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles gasped, he tried to push himself back again, thankful when Peter gave him more freedom to move. He managed to push his ass up a few inches off the mattress before Peter stopped him. He groaned as Peter inched the skirt up, revealing the panties that outlined Stiles’ ass so nicely.

“That isn’t keeping quiet,” Peter tutted lightly, running his fingers over the soft fabric. “I told you what will happen, didn’t I? Do I need to leave you alone?”

“Nah uh,” Stiles groaned, shaking his head. “I’m as quiet as a damn mouse.”

“I don’t even know why I bother, you’re not in a good mood, are you darling? You’re not wanting to be my good little boy today,” Peter hummed, he pulled the panties down slightly, leaving them settled just under his ass.

“I have a lot of energy,” Stiles bit back, a smile in his voice.

Instead of responding, Peter just squeezed Stiles’ ass, relishing in the groan that it earnt him. It was always music to his eyes, and Peter was once again struck with a possibility for the future. He wondered just how long he could keep Stiles making those noises for him, perhaps pressing a vibrator against the head of his cock, or even a vibrating toy stimulating his prostate. It would be a wonderful past time, although Peter wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off the teen. Peter was even tempted to pepper the skin with hits, watching as the paleness turned a pink, but he held himself back. There was just too many possibilities and he couldn’t overwhelm him boy just yet.

Settling back on his original plan, Peter leant over to the bedside table to pick up the bottle of lube. He popped the cap and poured a little onto his fingers, not bothering to coat them thoroughly before he closed the bottle and let it rest on the bed. Using his lube-free hand, Peter squeezed Stiles’ left cheek, he then ran his other fingers over Stiles’ hole, not penetrating just yet. Stiles teased him, so he wanted a little bit of revenge.

Huffing, Stiles tried to press back into Peter’s fingers, in the hopes that one would breach him. When Peter didn’t relent in his slow movements, Stiles whined, the sound high in his throat and all at once getting Peter’s scrutinising eyes on him. It wasn’t the first time at all that Stiles had done something like that, and Peter was sure that the teen didn’t know just how pretty he sounded. There was a more animalistic part of Peter that thrived on the small sound of distress, on how Stiles didn’t use his words, and instead settled on a pure sound to get his point across.

“Now, now darling,” Peter said, and even to his own ears, his voice was low and sultry. “Patience. Or do I need to call Christopher back so he can make sure we’re being safe?” Along with the thickening of arousal, there was an increase in Stiles’ heart rate and just a hint of embarrassment that shone through. It was a scent that Peter would gladly fill his room with, ideally, it was one he wanted to have hold of, to put whoever he was just to know the teenager was happy and satisfied – even if he wasn’t _quite_ satisfied in that moment.

“That’s a good boy,” Peter hummed, _finally_ pushing one finger in.

It wasn’t enough, but Stiles bit back his protest and waited. He clenched the sheets in his hands, hoping that it would ease his desire to push back and impale himself on Peter’s finger. He wanted to show Peter that he could be good and listen, that he could be patient. It just wasn’t an easy task at all. Especially not when Peter was around.

Choosing to be kind, Peter pulled his finger out and then added another, pushing two fingers in slowly, watching for any sign of discomfort or pain. It was something he didn’t want, some pain was good but never in this situation, and never without Stiles being the one to ask.

“For god’s sake will you _please_ get on with it,” Stiles groaned, Peter’s fingers had deliberately missed his prostate, and Stiles knew for a fact that Peter knew exactly where it was, not that Stiles would let Peter know that he knew.

“You really have to speak, didn’t you?” Peter chuckled, and the sound went straight to Stiles’ cock, making him twitch. Stiles just wasn’t in the mindset to wait, he didn’t want to make Stiles sigh again though, not that Peter would really be upset. Stiles knew that it was a challenge and through pure stubbornness, Stiles would stay still and as silent as he could be – even if it wasn’t _too_ silent at all.

Biting his lip, Stiles tried to ignore just how good Peter’s fingers felt, how they brushed against him, how they were so close yet not quite hitting exactly where Stiles wanted them. Time seemed to disappear as Peter’s fingers entered and were slowly pulled out, spreading and stretching him. It was a nice rhythm, one that Stiles was slowly moving to meet, unaware of just how hungrily Peter was watching his ass swallow the fingers, even when another one was added. _That_ was a little better for Stiles, he felt full, it was just enough that it wasn’t uncomfortable but also enough that it felt like enough.

“Ready?” Peter asked, slowly pulling his fingers free. Peter didn’t see Stiles’ response, nor did he hear it, but he could sense the arousal that was so thick and ready. Picking up the bottle of lube again, Peter added a little more to his already sticky hand, palming it over his cock as he closed and let the bottle fall to the floor with his still clean one. There was no hint of any negativity, even the embarrassment that he had felt was gone, leaving pure arousal, happiness, and eagerness. It was all around him.

Focusing more on the scent, Peter let himself drift a little, lining himself up and pushing slowly into Stiles. For Stiles, it was the sensation, the slow stretch and the sound of Peter’s quiet groan that made him moan. As Peter pushed the whole way in, Stiles’ body shivered at the brush against his prostate. Peter ran a hand over Stiles’ back, stopping just where the bra strap was, he had needed to feel Stiles, to touch the smooth skin, the feel how Stiles’ moved beneath him. He kept the pace slow and steady, taking his time to thrust in and out, hearing Stiles’ somewhat laboured breath. Peter had missed Stiles, more so than he had imagined possible. He had been tempted to call during the time apart, just to make sure Stiles was alright and not in any trouble at all.

As Peter began to thrust faster, he noticed Stiles’ hand leave the sheet and reach back, searching for Peter. With a soft chuckle, Peter leant forward slightly, just enough that he could hold Stiles’ hand. His other hand held onto Stiles’ hip, keeping him in place as Peter followed his own pleasure. He didn’t need to shift Stiles’ position, just the way he was rocking back was more than enough.

Stiles pressed his face into the sheets, blocking the sounds he was making, every gasp and moan swallowed by the sheets. Stiles squeezed Peter’s hand, needing just a little more. There was a warmth expanding low in his stomach. He moved his free hand, wrapping his fingers around his cock. He stroked his cock slowly, realising just how hard he was. It didn’t take long at all, between the movement of his hand and the thrusts from Peter that continued to brush against his prostate, for Stiles to feel his orgasm him, his hand tightened around Peter’s. He spilled over his hand onto the sheets below, the scent hitting Peter in an instant. Speeding up a little more, Peter used Stiles’ ever increasingly lax body until he hit his orgasm, filling Stiles up.

Peter stilled for a moment, his breath harsh. Pulling out, Stiles mewled, wanting to keep Peter close.

“I’m here darling,” Peter hummed, he ran his hand over Stiles’ ass. He gently pulled his other hand free from Stiles’ grasp and undid the clasps holding the stockings up. Peter pulled the panties down more, so they were halfway down Stiles’ thighs before he eased the skirt over the teen’s ass, letting it join the collection bunched up. Peter ran a hand up Stiles’ back and undid the bra.

“On your back sweetheart,” Peter advised, helping roll Stiles over. Peter took his time to pull the panties and the skirt off, setting them to the side before slowly inching the stockings down and adding them to the pile one at a time. By this point, Stiles was creating a small pool of fluids on Peter’s bed, but the older man didn’t care at all, he was more concerned with making sure Stiles stayed content and relaxed. Shifting, Peter pulled the bra from Stiles’ chest, taking care to ease each arm from the straps, adding that last article of clothing from Stiles to the pile.

Peter took a moment to observe Stiles, who was watching him from headed-lidded eyes. He looked so _normal_ in Peter’s bed, his dotted skin against the dark blue sheets. It was such a lovely contrast. Peter grinned, reaching for Stiles’ half-raised hand, he laid down next to the teen, pulling him close.

“So,” Peter said softly, letting Stiles burrow closer to him. “Thoughts on that?”

“Good, A plus man,” Stiles laughed, still a little breathless.

“Anything not good?”

“Just ask,” Stiles said before yawning.

“The reaction to being called a girl,” Peter said lightly, he could smell the mixture of emotions, the embarrassment, the slight shame, the anxiety and the disgust that, if Peter knew Stiles, was all aimed internally.

“You caught that? I don’t know. It just – you know,” Stiles shrugged. “It shocked me.”

“Bad shock?”

“You already know,” Stiles frowned, he shuffled until he could see Peter. “It’s not something I want all the time but sometimes maybe? Like today, when you caught me off guard with it but maybe not that often because – I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“It isn’t weird at all –”

“Kink is great and all that, but it _is_ weird,” Stiles interrupted. “This isn’t even a case of me feeling weird about calling you daddy, I don’t know. I just feel like it’s offensive to like. Like – not _offensive_ offensive,” Stiles stressed. “Just, I know people that don’t like gender stuff and I don’t feel right doing that because –”

“You know how a daddy kink isn’t about incest?” Peter said, stopping Stiles ramblings, he waited for the nod before continuing. “Feminisation, which is what that is in a way, especially low-key feminisation has nothing to do with gender, not really. I have no plans to have you change into my little girl completely unless you want that, but you don’t seem to. If, when you dress up so prettily again, you want me to compare you a little to other little girls and pretend you are like them, we can do that.” Peter tightened his hold on Stiles. “I’ve said it before, but you shouldn’t feel guilty about what you like, you aren’t hurting anyone.”

Stiles let Peter’s words seep into silence. He did listen, Peter had been very open about how he viewed kink, even willing to explain the things Stiles got stuck on, which was nice. He hadn’t realised that there were people so open to educating others, not like this. He had envisioned more… whips and chains, if he was being honest with himself. That is what he had viewed as ‘kinky’. Not _this_ , not what he had with Peter. As for the rest of it, Stiles had never minded being called a girl, it had been an insult thrown at him from time to time, but it never phased him, he had purposely gone out of his way to grin and snap an answer like he always would, and over time, he had even called himself ‘mamma’ when managing to find information he needed, or when he had completed a challenging task. It was mostly when he was alone, but a more _female_ view of himself wasn’t the issue really. He didn’t want to tarnish the people that actually wanted to be taken seriously, and it felt as though playing a part during sex and only then would do that. It didn’t matter that it made him tingly and slightly lightheaded, it just wasn’t right.

But then, Stiles tried to reason, aware that Peter was giving him the time to think. But then, surely giving a gendered word so much power didn’t help? To refuse it would make it seem like it was the worst thing, he had heard the others, instantly defensive upon being compared to a girl, or something they didn’t agree with. So, why would Stiles need to get defensive himself, _he_ didn’t put that much care into it. Sure, he would double take if everyone around him used feminine pronouns for him out of the blue, but he wouldn’t make a huge deal about it, it wouldn’t _offend_ him. Heck, his friends at the club called him girl and had no issue with it, but was that different? Being around people from that community had to be different to being around Peter – who was in a gay… relationship, was what he had with Peter a true relationship? Could he call the man his boyfriend? That felt weird, and sure, he had said boyfriend to his dad but he couldn’t tell his dad that Peter was old enough to actually _be_ his dad. Maybe it wasn’t all that different. Stiles didn’t have a problem really, beyond feeling like he was being disrespectful in some way – but then he could talk to someone and that might help. Not Lydia or Malia, neither of them would be much help like this, but he was overdue a chat with the drag queens anyway, they’d probably be a better source of information if he could manage to make himself talk.

“Ok,” Stiles said softly. “I just need to think about it, ok? I think it’s ok, but I retain the right to take it back. Maybe like I said, sometimes but not a lot?” he asked, not wanting to completely write it off before he knew more, and it was unlikely that Peter would spring it on him again so soon. If it was bad, then he could take it back, he trusted Peter and he knew that the man wouldn’t say it if Stiles said he didn’t want him to.


	45. A Strange Day

**Daddy I woke up hard.** Stiles sent the message, maybe if he had been more awake, he would have had a second thought on just what he was saying.

 **Oh darling, that isn’t good, how are you going to sort that out?** Stiles couldn’t help the chuckle as he pulled the duvet up over his face. Of course, Peter wouldn’t make this easy for him in the slightest. There was something in the message that just went through Stiles though. Half under the cover, Stiles’ hand slipped down his chest, moving to his tented boxers and palming himself a little, his touch soft as he replied one-handed.

 **I can read the sarcasm in that btw. BUT I will admit that I may have slipped a hand down under the blankets to feel just how hard I was and it never came back out from under the blankets you don’t mind, do you?** Stiles bit his lip, trying to fight the smile he wanted to show. It was easy to get caught up, to play the part and trust Peter.

Almost instantly, Stiles’ phone rang. There was a moment where Stiles’ cheeks burnt bright and he considered throwing the phone. He didn’t expect this, but then it _was_ Peter. Stiles should just learn to expect the unexpected. Deciding to jump the gun, Stiles hit accept and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hi,” he whispered, his voice quiet and embarrassed.

“ _Hello,_ ” Peter’s reply came, bringing a huge smile to Stiles’ face. “ _You ok there darling_?”

Stiles nodded, realising a moment too late what he did. “Yes, are you?” he said, his voice hitching slightly.

“ _What are you doing_?” Peter asked. Stiles blushed even more, Peter knew exactly what he was doing, he just wanted Stiles to say it.

“You know –” Stiles started, a whine in his voice.

“ _Tell me_ ,” Peter said with the hint of an order.

“Fuck,” Stiles mumbled under his breath, he heard Peter’s chuckle and that did nothing to help matters. “I’m touching myself,” Stiles said after a second. It was true, Stiles’ hand was still moving with slow, soft, teasing movements over his boxers. It had been just enough to text Peter, let alone hearing the man’s rumbling voice in his ear. Stiles was just a little too worried about finishing the party before it really started.

“ _How are you touching yourself baby_?” Peter asked, trying to coax just a little more out of Stiles.

“I don’t want to say,” Stiles admitted softly, anxiety still in his chest. He couldn’t just turn it off, letting himself enjoy the moment. It was different when Peter wasn’t there to help him. When Stiles was alone, it was just different, he was more aware of what he was doing and what he was saying, how he must sound and what Peter might think.

“ _Don’t want to or can’t_?” Peter asked, the two words seeming indistinguishable in Stiles’ mind.

“I don’t know,” Stiles settled on, the words quiet and unsure. He didn’t know, that was the truth. He wanted to say it, but he didn’t want to as well, there was something blocking it and he didn’t know if it was something in his mind or whatever. There was just too much feedback for him to know for sure.

“ _Ok_ ,” Peter said, just a hint louder than Stiles had spoken. “ _What are you wearing sweetheart_?”

“Just – just boxers,” Stiles admitted, he closed his eyes, focusing solely on Peter’s voice, maybe if he tried hard enough, he would forget that Peter wasn’t here, and it did work, his embarrassment was leaving a little, and Peter hadn’t laughed at him yet. Stiles just needed to keep his mind quiet, to stop himself really thinking about what he was doing and focus on Peter’s voice.

“ _That’s good, little boys shouldn’t sleep naked after all_ ,” Peter’s words seemed to have connected to Stiles’ own libido. His hips had jerked from the bed, and Stiles whined at just how little friction there was for him to rub against.

“Daddy,” Stiles tried to scold, but the words were half-hearted. “That’s mean.”

“ _No, it would be mean if I told you to explain every little detail to me baby. No matter how embarrassed it makes you. You could tell me just how your hand is touching your cock. If it’s in your boxers, or over them. If your hand is rough or gentle. If you were only touching your cock. How much you want more but you’re still trying to be so good and wait for me to say you can_ ,” Peter’s voice was like honey, the words dripping all over Stiles and lighting his body up. “ _You sound so sweet_ ,” Peter hummed, drawing Stiles’ attention to the noises he was making. The soft pants and quiet moans as he tried to stay as silent as possible. “ _I can even hear your heartbeat darling, so fast and eager_.”

“Daddy,” Stiles whined.

“ _Are you going to make a mess for me_?” Peter chuckled. “ _All in your boxers like a good little boy_? _Are you that close?_ ”

“Plu – please,” Stiles panted, he flattened his hand, pressing firmer against his confined cock. Every hip thrust sending sparks through him each time his cock brushed against the bottom of his palm.

“ _Go on darling, cum for me_ ,” Peter purred, listening as Stiles’ heart stuttered and his little moans cut off. It was a shame that Peter wasn’t there, that he couldn’t watch the crinkle in Stiles’ forehead as he tried to stay silent. That he couldn’t catch Stiles’ scent through the phone. He could settle for the sounds; his hearing was exceptional. He would just make up for it the next time he had Stiles all to himself.

Stiles, on the other hand, was lost to a range of sensations. A whirl of emotions from how bad it was to how good he felt. As he forced his breathing to slow from the heaviness it had been, he tried not to think about how his actual dad might have overheard him. He wasn’t a stranger to masturbating, even with his dad in the house, but this felt more taboo.

“ _You ok there_?”

Stiles shifted on the bed, wincing as it squeaked from the movement.

“I’m good, you didn’t need to call,” he said, trying to let Peter know he had a back-out option to the phone call if he wanted it. “I don’t even –”

“ _Stop it_ ,” Peter’s response came, cutting Stiles’ words off. The teenager hushed abruptly in order to hear him. “ _I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to and you know that. It was a nice wake-up call_.”

“Would have been better if you let me stay,” Stiles grumbled, still a little hurt that Peter had refused to keep him for the night, opting to be the bad guy by making Stiles go home again.

“ _Next time_ ,” Peter promised, but Stiles knew what he meant. Logically, he couldn’t stay over at Peter’s all the time and not be found out, and neither of them really wanted to have a discussion about what was happening to Stiles’ dad, not when they were trying to repair it a little. It was already awkward enough between father and son. As much as ‘next time’ was tempting, and it was, Stiles knew that it would probably be a few times away yet.

“What are you doing today?” Stiles asked as he balanced his phone on the side of his face, lifting his hips a little to help as he slowly inched the boxers down over his ass and down his thighs. He just wanted the mess off of him, preferably before it dried too much.

“ _I’m doing some work. I have a few more things to go over before it’s all finalised again. I sorted out the contract and Sharron seems to be doing a good job, she has her son helping her out, which I didn’t know_ ,” Peter said. “ _I’m going to go over one of the proposals today, it shouldn’t take long and I might do a little more, I’ve been added to the database again and Sharron is more than happy to share the workload_.”

“That’s good,” Stiles said, his voice light. He told himself that he wouldn’t go over to Peter’s place, not so soon into him starting work again. It wasn’t fair on him.

“ _What do you have planned_?” Peter enquired.

“I’m going to just do stuff,” Stiles offered, unconvincingly. “There is a bit of housework to be done, I should probably make an effort to do it.”

The two talked a little more but saying goodbye soon enough, promising to see each other soon. It left Stiles feeling a little off, it was a little shocking to him, how much he did want Peter to be there. It was just jarring to go from hearing Peter’s voice to silence after a goodbye. Shaking himself a little, Stiles decided to go about his day, he wouldn’t think about what he was feeling, or even the possible reasons why.

* * *

Stiles, needing to get out of his house and away from his dad, had left his house in a hurried huff. He didn’t want to handle his dad, not yet, things were still tense and awkward. Between hiding in his room, or being out of the house, Stiles would rather choose the latter one.

It wasn’t until he was halfway to Peter’s that he pulled over, cursing at himself. He had sworn that he wouldn’t go there. He knew Peter wouldn’t mind, but Stiles didn’t want to be in the way. It was fair and it wasn’t right. Stiles was almost a full-blown adult after all, he could handle being without Peter for a day. It wasn’t the end of the world.

Stiles really didn’t want to be alone though. Typically, this is where he would go to Scott’s. That hurt. Knowing that Scott wasn’t a safe place for him anymore, Stiles didn’t quite know when he had realised that, only that it was before he had turned to Peter. Everything that happened between them had hurt but it hadn’t been a surprise. Stiles didn’t want to focus on _that_ either. He wanted to not think, and Peter was the best person for that help. If not Peter, then –

Biting his lip, Stiles started the jeep again. There was someone else that helped him forget things, sure, it was awkward and Stiles had not really been alone with him but there was a first time for everything and he wanted his brain to stop.

The journey didn’t take long, and Stiles was trying to remain positive the whole way. There were things that could go wrong, and Stiles could get laughed out of his apartment, or even have a weapon pulled on him. Between going home, roaming the streets or the possible death by embarrassment, the choice was clear.

It didn’t make getting out of the jeep easier, or walking into the building, or even into the elevator. Stiles tried to ignore the memories that flooded him in the small enclosed space. Stiles could feel himself blushing, just remembering how Peter had him wanting so much more in that very space. The elevator ride seemed to take so long, even without stopping a single time. Maybe he _was_ being silly, and maybe this was a bad idea. It was too late to turn back. He could already be being watched, and leaving now would be even more humiliating than staying.

The doors opened. Pulling forward his bravado, Stiles moved onwards. He did his best not to hesitate, even as his heart seemed to grow louder in his ears. Or even as the air seemed to thin around him. No, he was on a mission. He knocked once, twice, three times. Sharp and clear.

“Stiles,” Chris said, opening the door with hardly a moment’s hesitation and no hint of surprise on his face when he saw the teen. “Nice to see you with some clothes on.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbled, the blush already dotting his cheeks. Chris _had_ seen him coming then. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know you’d be there. Can I come in?”

Stiles didn’t see Chris’ eyebrow raise, he was too preoccupied staring at the floor. Chris stepped to the side letting him scurry past quickly before he closed the door. He hadn’t expected this, and he was sure that Peter would have warned him a little if it was something planned.

“What’s up kid?”

“Oh, nothing,” Stiles answered quickly. He glanced up at Chris’ face before looking away again. “Just needed somewhere to lay low a bit, I can go if –”

“Go sit down,” Chris said, cutting Stiles off from leaving. There was clearly something more going on and it would be irresponsible to let him leave, if he _had_ to give himself an excuse to let Stiles stay. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Stiles said with a grin. “If you weren’t a stick in the mud, I’d ask for a drink.”

“Stick in the mud? Aren’t you a little young for that?” Chris teased, _this_ was easier. It felt almost normal.

“You’re as old as you feel,” Stiles shrugged, a devious gleam in his eye that made Chris want to shut down whatever came next. He sat down, his eyes still on Chris as he added, “and, of course, Peter is rather old.”

Stiles was rather proud of the laugh that broke from Chris. It was just this that he had wanted, the focus on the here-and-now. An easy smile came to Stiles, and it was an honest one that he didn’t have to force.

“You are going to get yourself in trouble,” Chris warned, shaking his head.

“I think I’m already there,” Stiles admitted, and that was the truth. It was easy to avoid but he was in trouble, not serious life-threatening trouble, but trouble all the same.

“Why are you here kid?” Chris asked. “Why not _daddy_?” Chris was a _little_ ashamed to admit that he watched with rapt attention as Stiles’ eyes fluttered and his lips parted.

“He – he’s doing work,” Stiles answered, licking his lips a little to hide how good it sounded to hear Chris say that, and in that tone as well. He didn’t know if the smug, arrogant, teasing nature of Chris was what appealed to him, Peter certainly had the same thing going for him most of the time, so maybe. “Plus – you know,” he added nervously, “I wanted to say sorry for yesterday properly. It wasn’t fair to spring that on you and it wasn’t cool even though you took it amazingly and it was hot but still not cool -”

“You’re rambling,” Chris interrupted, his mind zeroing on the ‘ _it was hot_ ’. Stiles hadn’t seemed to have noticed exactly what he had said, or that Chris had caught it, but it was all that was repeating in the man’s mind.

“This was stupid,” Stiles muttered to himself. He pushed himself up from the seat, shaking his head as he continued to berate himself under his breath. He thought too much into it, he assumed that Chris would be fine with him just stopping around, wasting his time because Peter was. The two of them were completely different people and Stiles needed to remember that, no matter how much Chris seemed to not mind him, he shouldn’t get too friendly. Even with Peter, it wasn’t right and Stiles needed to remember the age gap between him and these men and –

Stiles’ mind stopped. The thoughts cut off with such ferocity that the silence was deafening. Stiles could hear nothing but the silence. It was only after a second that he realised his wrist hurt a little, that he had stopped moving and that _everything_ seemed heavy around him.

“You aren’t stupid for going somewhere safe.”

 _Oh_.

Stiles didn’t know what to do. Chris still had hold of his wrist, and the skin under his hand felt hot. There was nothing in his mind that he could say, the silence still loud and clear. Chris seemed to be waiting for Stiles to make the next move, even though his grasp had weakened.

Chris waited a moment longer, just to see if Stiles would make a move. When nothing happened, he let out a quiet sigh, the noise jarring Stiles’ silent world just a little. The teen let himself be pulled back, Chris hardly forcing him at all as he guided him closer. Stiles didn’t know when Chris had stood up, only that it had to have happened when he had been distracted and pointing out how stupid he was.

“What really happened kid?” Chris asked, his voice soft, softer than he remembered it being in a long time. Stiles couldn’t help but be affected, he swayed towards Chris, towards that calm, reassuring and _safe_ voice, and he was almost sure he heard Chris’ chest rumble much like Peter’s sometimes did. “You are doing to land me in jail,” Chris sighed.

 “I’m sorry dude,” Stiles said, shaking himself a little, there was no need for his weird mood today and Stiles refused to let it get the better of him. “I got a little caught up in everything. I’m all good. A moment of weakness is only a moment.”

Chris’ unbelieving face made Stiles huff. The teenager turned, facing Chris head on and stared at him, trying to mentally tell the man to believe him, to trust that he was fine and had everything under control no matter how much it didn’t seem like it.

“A moment of weakness will get you killed,” Chris said blankly, refusing to give Stiles any budge.

“Lucky I have two strong men to keep me safe then,” Stiles tried to joke, but it landed flat. There was a part of Stiles that had no doubt that both men _would_ , in fact, keep him as safe as they could.

“Damn right,” and Stiles had to take a moment to blink, unsure if he had heard that right. He never thought he would get such sure confirmation, especially not from Chris. He bit his lip to stop any form of a comeback to that statement, and he hand to make an effort not to throw himself at Chris. It was more difficult than he wanted to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is it that Chris and Stiles just won't play along how I want them to? I think the next one will be called "Finally... Sweet Victory", because damn it, it will happen!


	46. Get Him Tiger

“Does Hale know you’re here?” Chris asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Not exactly,” Stiles shrugged. Of course, Chris would be a black coffee man, the macho ‘ _me need no milk_ ’ guy who shames everyone else for adding a bit of goodness to such a bitter drink. He _had_ rolled his eyes at Stiles’ request for milk as if it made him pitiful and Stiles was not focusing on _that_ rage-inducing fact at all. Nope. “Why do you call him Hale, there are like three other ones you could be talking about, it’s just confusing.”

“Does it really bother you that much?” Chris asked with an eyebrow raised over at Stiles.

“Not really,” Stiles admitted. “It’s just –” _annoying_ , he almost said. It shouldn’t matter to Stiles though, not really, what Chris called Peter was their own business. Stiles even had a few people he called by their last names, and that was all. It just felt impersonal, and for some reason, it did get under Stiles’ skin more than he wanted to admit. “I don’t know,” he settled on, another single shoulder shrug as he looked back over to Chris. This was all terribly awkward.

Trying to avoid it, Stiles pulled out his phone. Deciding to be good, mainly to help dissolve the awkwardness he was feeling, he sent a message to Peter; **I’m at Chris’. Just in case I go missing or turn up dead.**

“Told him now?” Chris asked, noticing what Stiles had done.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, looking down at Peter’s response.

**He isn’t going to kill you darling, maybe ravish, but not kill.**

**You’re not angry?** Stiles felt small sending that, a lot more vulnerable than he normally was. He considered sinking back into his seat, but he knew that would make Chris ask what was wrong. Something that Stiles really did not want to deal with just yet.

**We’ve been working towards this remember. Enjoy. Film it if possible.**

“Oh my god,” Stiles said quietly, he could feel his cheeks flush. He hadn’t even considered that thing could go that far, not in reality. Ok, being completely honest with himself, he _had_ thought about it on the drive over, but he didn’t expect that it would happen.

**Omg!**

**I’m sure he has cameras around. But, I look forward to hearing what he does to you. Go get him Tiger!**

**You are unbelievable!** Stiles put his phone back in his pocket, ignoring that it vibrated almost instantly again. He was still doing his best to avoid looking at Chris. He feared that it was obvious, what they had said in the message, and Stiles wasn’t too sure Peter was right about Chris wanting him back. Sure, they had kissed, but that was all.

“Seems like an interesting conversation,” Chris commented, drawing Stiles’ attention to him. Chris was just staring, watching him with such an intensity that it made Stiles’ blush deepen. The awkwardness of Stiles reminded Chris of just how young the teen was, and how Chris was still seeing the kid that had lied to his face about his best friend, or even the one that had arrived with Scott, safely taking Jackson away from him, hell, even the kid he had worked with the stop the Alpha’s was vastly different to the Stiles before him. Perhaps he had changed that night at the Nemeton, maybe the Nogitsune had just been that good of an actor, or perhaps Stiles’ change occurred in the moments during and after everything that happened. Chris just didn’t know how he had turned into this person. It was such a drastic change, the loss of someone’s innocence, and it showed.

“Um, yeah,” Stiles mumbled, he licked his lips. “Peter said you probably have cameras all over.”

“I do,” Stiles’ mind short-circuited at Chris’ nonchalant tone, the possibilities endless. He looked around, not finding anything obvious, which he had expected. The thought of him being recorded was a little embarrassing, and it brought back even more memories of the last time Stiles had been here. He wondered if Chris had a camera in the hall where Peter had pressed him against the wall. Only, he wasn’t brave enough to know the answer.

“Oh,” was all that Stiles managed.

“It’s protection,” Chris explained. “After –”

“You don’t need to explain,” Stiles cut him off, unsure of what the reason was. Maybe it was when Stiles had broken in, still possessed and planted evidence framing Chris for a murder. Or maybe it was due to all the werewolves running around his house whenever he wasn’t in. Stiles didn’t know what would be the easier answer, or the more desirable one.

Silence fell around them, both taking the time to finish their drinks. Chris observing Stiles, whilst Stiles tried his best to avoid his own thoughts. There was a lot there, a lot he was unsure about, he didn’t know what he should do or say. The air seemed to have thickened with something that Stiles couldn’t quite name.

“You’re quiet,” Chris put his cup back down, having emptied the contents. “There’s no Peter around.”

“I know,” Stiles shrugged, he did notice Chris’ use of Peter’s name, which did make him feel a little better. “Slightly regretting coming here if I’m being honest. It’s just…” he shrugged again. He offered Chris an uneasy smile. “I don’t know. It feels weird.”

“I can imagine so,” Chris grinned. “You were in next to nothing last time I saw you, and that did certainly make an impression.”

“Oh my god, you are horrible,” Stiles laughed, his head thrown back and Chris couldn’t help but admire the kid. He looked _happy_ , even in such a fleeting moment, and it was a good look on him. Sure, there was a hickey on his neck, Peter’s doing no doubt. Granted, it did make Chris wonder just how easily Stiles bruised, but that was a path he really shouldn’t go down, not now. _Not yet_ , his mind offered.

He tried to push that thought away. He didn’t need to think about Stiles in the different stages of undress he had seen, and Stiles did make an impression each time. If Chris _was_ being honest with himself, which he normally refused to do, he did find Stiles attractive. It was wrong, and Chris did hate himself for it, but the boy did have a certain _charm_ to himself. It definitely didn’t help that Peter and Stiles were both pushing every single one of his buttons when it came to the kid. Chris was only human. As bad a defence as that was.

Another glance over at Stiles found the teen licking his lips. Chris balled his fist, resting it beside his leg, biting the inside of his cheek. It probably wouldn’t be good to reach out and touch the boy, he had already had too many sinful thoughts without adding an _actual_ sin on top of them.

“You look wound up,” Stiles pointed out, a frown on his face. Chris was tense, his body ready to run, which Stiles did notice. “What’s – you have somewhere you need to be, don’t you?” Stiles concluded. “You’re just too nice to kick me out, oh my god –”

“Stiles,” Chris interrupted, he made a conscious effort to relax. He had forgotten just how observant Stiles could be, although he hadn’t really seen it first-hand, only heard the tales of it from various people.

“No,” Stiles said, a forced grin on his face as he leant forward and set the cup he had on the side table. “I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

“Stiles,” Chris tried again. He shook his head as Stiles only continued to stand up, his whole body almost vibrating. “Will you just –”

Chris’ words fell on deaf ears. Stiles picked up his cup again, taking it through to Chris’ kitchen. That simple action shocked Chris a little, not even most adults would have done that, and yet this child did. Shaking his head again, Chris made his way after Stiles, hoping to reassure him at least a little that it was all ok.

Of course, he got sidetracked. It was strange to see just what Stiles did, he had filled the cup with water, rinsing it out before he set it on the side, still seeming unsure if he had done the right thing. It was something that Chris had not even considered as something Stiles would have done, perhaps it was because he was _still_ viewing the teen as a child when he wasn’t. Not really.

Stiles turned, pausing where he stood. His eyes were wide and unsure, but still so eager and yet hurt, that it tore at Chris.

Chris didn’t even think as Stiles passed him. With a slight growl of his own, one that still made Stiles’ knees weaken even with how obviously _human_ it was, Chris slammed Stiles back against the wall. He didn’t hold Stiles in place, but his arms boxed him in enough to give Stiles the image of being caged.

“Will you just listen?” he asked, and Stiles’ silence continued. He was too preoccupied with the fact Chris was close enough to smell. The hint of gun oil, and something _more_ underneath, something that Stiles wanted to say was pure Chris, it was earthy, not quite the woodsy scent that Peter had, but still something Stiles wanted to bottle for himself.

“You -” Chris started, his voice low and deep. “You are just so – god. You have to be such a fucking tease.”

“It’s ok,” Stiles gasped. “I can lea –”

“Quiet,” Chris’ rough tone made Stiles shrink back against the wall slightly. He wasn’t afraid, in fact, he was anything _but_ afraid, and he was so aware that Chris would be able to tell that with how close they were. They weren’t quite touching yet, but Stiles did hope that they would be soon.

Stiles’ lips were parted slightly; they had been since he was pushed against the wall. His attention solely on Chris. It was a power rush for the man, to be stared at like that. Chris couldn’t help but attach his own mouth onto Stiles, pulling at the teen’s bottom lip. It was only for a second before Stiles responded himself, his back arching until his chest was against Chris’. Chris moved in response, stepping that singular step closer to pretty much press Stiles’ back flush against the wall. Although, he did let the kiss continue. It was enough to make Stiles’ mind swim, Chris was clearly in control, making the first move in deepening the kiss and coaxing Stiles into more.

Chris’ body responded to one of Stiles’ moans, pressing even closer, a leg slotting between Stiles’. If Chris had been unsure about how Stiles felt, then this was enough to reassure him, along with how easily Stiles fell into the simple act of kissing. As soon as Chris’ leg fell into place, Stiles’ hips began to move. It was enough to make Chris pull away from the kiss, his breath heavy, but not quite as uneven as Stiles’ was. It was truly a sight to see, Stiles’ still parted lips, how calm and carefree he looked, even with his eyes closed.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chris mutters under his breath. “God, I should just leave you here. After everything – I shouldn’t do this.”

It was his last attempt to do the right thing, to be the bigger person and pull away, leaving Stiles where he was stood, but he couldn’t. Chris had to be blind not to notice how his voice was affecting Stiles. It was almost _too_ easy, but Stiles was still inexperienced. Still eager to seek out his own pleasure without a second thought.

“Maybe I should just give in and fuck you,” Chris suggested quietly, somewhat amazed at the whimper that drew from Stiles. “I could, and you wouldn’t even try to stop me, would you?” It was rhetorical, Chris wouldn’t go that far, but Stiles still shook his head. Another curse left Chris’ lips. “I would fuck you until you cried, and I bet you would still beg for more.”

Again, Stiles nodded, shocking Chris a little at how eager he was. How much he was willing to hope for. He did want to, there was something about Stiles. Something that Chris wanted to take apart and treasure somewhat.

“Maybe I would even dress you up again, give myself a show with you as the star. Would you like that Stiles? Maybe I could even cover you in cum and leave you for your Daddy to find,” and Chris grinned as that was Stiles’ undoing. He came with a shaky breath, his soft whimpers and whines dying instantly as he continued to thrust against Chris’ leg.

Chris’ grin grew as Stiles buried his face into Chris’ neck. The man didn’t do anything but listen to Stiles’ heavy breathing, giving the teen a second to just take back control. It was clear the moment Stiles realised just what had happened. It was almost comical how Stiles’ head moved back, resting against the wall. Even without his eyes open, Stiles’ face blushed, his head ducked and he avoided letting Chris see him.

Unable to help himself, one hand moved to Stiles’ face, tilting his head up to draw their lips together again. The softest of noises leaving Stiles and a flame of desire being lit within Chris. There was no way he could stay away, and he knew Peter wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he even tried to.


	47. A Break From It All

“Stiles?”

As soon as the door had opened, Stiles had dived onto Peter, holding close and tightly until the man returned the hug.

“Oh darling, look who got what they wanted,” Peter hummed, the scent of Chris still strong against Stiles, along with the residual orgasm Stiles had had. As much as Stiles had an embarrassed scent, it was still hidden under his anxiety. “Darling?” Peter continued when Stiles made no move to step back or even speak. _That_ was unusual. The anxiety wasn’t too strange, but the silence is what made Peter worry.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbled into Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Peter frowned, he gently pried Stiles away from him, holding him at arm’s length. There was nothing visibly wrong. Stiles looked just as good as he had before, no marks or hints of any injury on his body, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “What’s wrong?”

“I – I don’t know,” Stiles admitted.

“Did Christopher do anything you didn’t want?” Peter asked, his voice unnaturally soft in contrast to his expression. If Chris _had_ done something, which Peter hadn’t considered before he had agreed to this plan, then the man wouldn’t live longer than the night.

“No,” Stiles said, his voice sure and his heart steady. “No, he didn’t,” Stiles said again, completely honestly. “I wanted it – I just – are you sure you’re alright?”

“Oh my darling boy,” Peter chuckled, he cupped Stiles’ cheek. “I get the joy of covering you in my scent again.”

Stiles flushed, remembering Chris’ suggestion of something similar, and how Peter didn’t seem to mind the idea. In fact, Stiles got the feeling Peter would _gladly_ do his best to cover every ounce of Chris’ scent. The thought was a little overwhelming, but Stiles hoped that he would get the chance to experience it sometime.

“I just – I want to be close,” Stiles admitted. He leant into Peter’s arms, letting the man hold him upright. “I didn’t want to bother you when you were working,” Stiles admitted, remembering exactly why he had gone to Chris in the first place.

“You aren’t a bother, idiot,” Peter chuckled fondly. He had no idea where Stiles had gotten that idea, maybe it was left over from the disaster of a pack he had surrounded himself with, or even the somewhat absent parent, but he wanted that gone. Yes, it was a little adorable, the way that Stiles would shy into himself, but it hinted at a deeper issue that Peter couldn’t let go unaddressed. Stiles should know he isn’t a burden on anyone.

Stiles just nodded, letting Peter guide them both into the apartment. It was easy to let Peter take over like this. To give him that moment where Stiles didn’t have to _think_ about anything. It was almost soothing something inside of Stiles he didn’t realise had gotten so wound up. The apartment was clean; which Stiles had expected. It was still noteworthy in his mind. There were a few stapled papers around, nothing too intense, which settled Stiles a little. He clearly hadn’t interrupted that much.

“Now, darling,” Peter said, sitting down on the couch. Since Stiles was still attached to the man, he followed suit, ending in a heap on the man’s lap. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? Since it’s gotten you all in a state.”

“It was nothing,” Stiles mumbled, trying to bury himself further into Peter’s chest.

“It was clearly something darling,” Peter pointed out, letting Stiles stay where he was. Normally Peter would try to push for a bit more attention, especially when he was trying to understand just what had gotten his partner in such a state. It was a way to either make sure that Stiles was paying attention or just to make sure he was alright. Peter did like to make sure his boy was happy and healthy. However, there was nothing in Stiles’ scent to show any true discomfort or regret, just a muddle of embarrassment, satisfaction, anxiety and a jumble of ones that Peter had trouble putting a name to. “Walk me through your thoughts.”

“It’s silly,” Stiles said quietly. “I just feel weird, and I wanted you to hold me.”

“That, I can do,” Peter agreed easily, wrapping his arms further around Stiles. “I still would like you to walk me through what happened though darling. Silly or not, I care. You are allowed to feel things, and maybe talking about it will help you understand it.”

“Really?” Stiles flushed, aware that Peter could feel it and aware that he was more than likely able to smell what had happened with very little difficulty. Peter hummed his agreement, making Stiles want to hide just a little more. Instead, Stiles decided to be brave, he tried to speak; “it wasn’t much, I just went to his place, I wanted to be away from home and I didn’t want to bug you… he let me in, we talked a bit and I thought I was overstepping so I went to leave –”

Peter stayed silent, even as Stiles’ words came to a sudden halt. There was no need to push, he would get there, of that Peter was sure. Stiles had never once not met Peter’s expectations, if anything, he surpassed them. Right now was the chance to see how much Stiles could do on his own. Peter rubbed a hand over Stiles’ back, partly as a calming motion, and also to help take the teen’s mind off what he was so caught up in internally.

“He just – he pushed me against the wall,” Stiles mumbled, the words muffled against Peter’s shirt. “He said a lot of things and – well – _you know_ ,” Stiles stressed. He felt Peter’s chuckle more than he had heard it, and it didn’t help him keep his reddened cheeks at bay.

“I don’t think I do,” Peter said with a grin. He wound his hand under Stiles’ t-shirt, relishing in the feel of Stiles’ bare skin. He was adorable, embarrassed and just something Peter never wanted to let go of, as sickeningly fond as that sounded, even to his own mind.

“You _know_ ,” Stiles whined, he shifted where he sat so he could look up at Peter, his lips slightly pouted. He had never looked more adorable, and that _was_ a difficult thing. There was just something about those eyes that made Peter melt a little, and the slight frown of his lips only added to that illusion. Although, Peter was aware he should probably be more focused on Stiles’ mental state than his looks. It was easy to get distracted though, he was only a man after all.

“Are you feeling better now?” Peter asked, wanting nothing more than to attach his mouth onto Stiles’. He could wait, he was a grown man. “A little more grounded?”

“Strangely enough,” Stiles said with a nod. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Peter said wrapping his arms around Stiles a little more. “You should have stayed with Christopher and cuddled a little.”

“Oh no,” Stiles protested, a dotting of pink back on his face. “I left ASAP,” he had said it as ‘a-sap’, rather than spelling the words out like he normally did when he used shorthand words.

“That much is clear,” Peter deadpanned. “Didn’t he try and stop you?”

Stiles avoided Peter’s eyes, which said it all. Chris _had_ tried to stop him, but Stiles more than likely refused and ran as soon as he had gotten the chance. In actual fact, Chris had asked where Stiles was going before the teen had left, relaxing a little when Stiles had said, _Peter_. Chris had known that Stiles would more than likely feel a little _off_ , for a lack of a better term, and if he was going to be on his own, Chris would have pushed a lot more for Stiles to stay longer. However, he had trusted Peter to be able to make sure the kid was alright.

“Do you regret it?” Peter asked, Stiles _had_ said he wanted it, but sometimes a fantasy was better than the actual thing. Even if Stiles did enjoy it, Peter needed to ask the question, just in case. Christopher was an adult, he would be able to handle it, and Peter knew that Christopher wouldn’t hold it against either of them if nothing more happened in the future.

“No?” Stiles said, the word sounding more like a question than anything else. “I mean – not really. I feel bad that it happened like that, it feels like –” Stiles suddenly quietened again.

“Like you what?” Peter prompted. There was that hint of embarrassment flaring in the air again. It was always nice to have Stiles smell this way, but never from something Peter didn’t arrange. He was sure it wasn’t anything _too_ serious, but he had to make sure.

“Just forget I said anything,” Stiles mumbled, his eyes falling from Peter.

“Stiles,” Peter said, pushing just a touch of authority into his tone. It was beautiful the way that Stiles’ whole body sagged against his own.

“God – you don’t play fair,” the teen grumbled. “Look, it felt like I was cheating on you, which is stupid I know because we haven’t really made this official. I don’t even know what you really think. I might just be some stupid kid that keeps showing up.”

Peter blinked. He hadn’t expected that. The words had fallen from Stiles’ lips almost too quick, even for Peter’s hearing to catch. The embarrassment was still there, but it was slowly being overtaken by resignation, almost as if Stiles expected something. Peter hummed a little, he let his hand dance over Stiles’ back again, trying to soothe the anxious bundle in his arms.

“We haven’t really talked about us,” Peter said, agreeing with Stiles. “Even if we had, I did give you the go-ahead to have fun,” he pointed out. “We both knew you had an attraction to Christopher, and I was more than happy to let you enjoy that. I still am,” he added on.

“Really? It isn’t too weird?” Stiles asked. He looked back at Peter’s face, worrying his lip.

“I thought you were smart,” Peter chuckled. “There is very little you can say to me that _would_ be weird darling.”

“I know but –”

“No buts,” Peter interrupted. “Now, I am happy letting you know that I like the idea of this being a _real_ relationship,” Peter said, rolling his eyes a little. “You are here often enough after all.”

“You can always tell me to get lost,” Stiles pointed out softly.

“I don’t want to,” Peter contradicted. “Strangely enough, I _do_ enjoy your company.”

“I like you too,” Stiles’ smile was enough of a reward to Peter for being that openly honest. Peter smiled right back, letting Stiles lean closer and bury himself back into Peter’s chest. It was warm, _Peter’s chest_. Those simple words had made it warm, and Peter didn’t want to think about the reason behind it, it felt just a little too soon to investigate his feelings. He just knew that this young man was special, _granted_ , he had known that beforehand.

“You know,” Peter said, his voice slightly sing-song-like. Peter refused to acknowledge just how far he would go to avoid his own thoughts. “I could always invite Christopher here, we could make sure you know just how alright I am with him having his way for you,” Peter could feel Stiles’ shiver, and it made him want to push just a little more. “I bet you would be such a good boy for him as well, wouldn’t you?”

Stiles nodded, fast and frantic, much to Peter’s amusement.

“Should I?” Peter asked. “We could have you laid down on my bed, all bare for him to see. I know he would like that.”

“Stop,” Stiles whined a little. “I –” Peter waited, but no other words followed. Stiles had swallowed, his breath a little heavier than it had been a couple of moments ago. It was always a good sign when Stiles got a lost in his mind with his arousal growing. His hands were even tightening around Peter’s shirt.

“Stop?” Peter asked, just an attempt to clarify if Stiles really wanted to put a stop to what was happening.

“Maybe?” Stiles said, the question clear in his voice. “I mean –”

“You’re aroused,” Peter pointed out, and there was no way that Stiles could have hidden it from his scent. “I think you’re just a little embarrassed,” he continued. “Unsure if you should like this, so you’re protesting for the sake of it, _just in case_.”

“ _Peter_ ,” the slight desperation in Stiles’ voice was almost like honey, so sweet and tempting.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” Peter knew he was right.

Stiles frowned, he didn’t know. Maybe Peter was right, it just wasn’t clear in his head. He knew one thing, but there was so much surrounding it that it just wasn’t that accessible to him. Without meaning to, Stiles knew he was getting frustrated. He wanted to _think_.

“Hey now,” Peter soothed. “What’s going on in that pretty little head there?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. He _hated_ it, how unclear his head was, so emotionally driven he was being. How Peter was helping even now, how it didn’t really make Stiles worse.

“I think sitting together like this for a little longer is a good idea,” Peter said seriously, dropping all hints of teasing. _That_ could wait until Stiles felt more like himself. “We can find something to watch, maybe a film? That sound good?”

As much as Stiles wanted to fight it, he couldn’t help how calmer he felt just listening to Peter’s voice. Especially when he talked just like that, his voice calm, gentle and something that Stiles wanted to fall right into. He would gladly jump off a cliff if he could be surrounded by Peter’s voice.

“That’s it,” Peter hummed, he felt Stiles relax completely against him. He still liked the idea of inviting Christopher around, even if nothing more happened, the sight of Stiles so red in the face, so unsure and embarrassed, but even more excited, eager and _so_ ready for more. It was almost too easy of a choice to make.


	48. A Bit of a Distraction

“You did what?” Stiles asked, his voice high and squeaky. “You can’t just _do_ that,” He whined. Stiles shifted where he stood, fully prepared to start pacing. The news was just a little too much for Stiles to handle. He wanted a quiet evening, one without any craziness.

“Darling,” Peter hummed. He stepped forward and put his arms on Stiles’ shoulders. It stopped Stiles from pacing, from turning away and running his hands nervously down his t-shirt and trousers. Peter had waited before he had contacted Chris, he spent the previous night and the whole morning with Stiles, both sat close enough to attempt to merge themselves together. Peter just wanted to prove a point to the teen, one that he needed Chris for.

“Take a breath,” Peter coached. He gave Stiles shoulders a squeeze. “Just be _you_. Like I said yesterday.”

“What?” Stiles asked. Peter’s words had paused his panic for a moment, a frown still etched onto his face as he tried to decipher just what Peter meant.

“In the text,” Peter said, his own frown mirroring Stiles’. Giving Peter a confused look, Stiles pulled out his phone, glancing down. **Just relax and be yourself.** It was sweet, something that might have helped calm Stiles’ nerves a little more when he was at Chris’. With a gentle grin, he nodded. Of course, it did help even more when Peter pulled him close. Stiles wrapped his arms back around Peter, just sinking into the happy feeling. He could face Chris. Perhaps. If Peter was nearby to stop him from completely freaking out that is.

“That’s it,” Peter said, his voice soothing and managing to ease Stiles’ tension. “Nothing has to happen, you know this. We can just talk, or even drink. _You_ can have a drink,” Peter said, catching Stiles’ ‘I’m underage’ comment before he had the chance to even consider saying it. Even so, Stiles just stared at him, an eyebrow raised, not saying anything. “Darling, daddy says you can have a drink,” Peter chuckled. As expected, Stiles’ cheeks pinkened.

“You aren’t allowed to say that,” Stiles mumbled. He pulled back from Peter’s chest, both men mourning the loss internally at the action. “It isn’t fair.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Peter grinned, he raised a hand to brush against Stiles’ heated skin. “I could be very unfair if I wanted to, and I am positive you would only ask for more.”

“You don’t know that,” Stiles protested. He didn’t even believe himself, Stiles knew that Peter could ask him to commit some of the worst sins imaginable and he would still seriously consider following his instructions. “When is he going to be here?” he asked, trying to stir the conversation onto Chris’ arrival.

“Soon enough, but not too soon to interrupt your panic,” Peter answered, as clear as ever. Stiles was more offended at just how easily Peter had read his reaction though, rather than the cryptic-ness of his kink partner. His _boyfriend_? That felt too juvenile, even if he had used that term to describe Peter before.

“How soon is soon enough?” Stiles asked, already beginning to worry at his lip.

“Let’s just say,” Peter said, crowding closer to Stiles again, “if I wanted to, I could take my time riding you of each article of clothing, make sure you had no more cum to give, clean you up, dress you all pretty and still have time to rest that nervous heart of yours.”

“You –” Stiles licked his lips. “You cannot just _say_ things like that,” he protested.

“I just did,” Peter said, a wicked grin on his face. Stiles wasn’t panicking anymore, which he would gladly take as a win in that moment. “Now, shall I show you just how much time we have?”

Without thinking, Stiles nodded his head. His mouth was slightly parted, his breath warm against his wet lips.

“That’s my good boy,” Peter praised. Peter ran his hands down Stiles’ arms, from his shoulders down to his wrists, before pulling the boy towards him as he stepped backwards. “You are going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Stiles agreed, once again without a single thought of disagreement. “What are you –”

“Ah, quiet,” Peter hushed him. “We’ll take this nice and slow. Understood?”

“Yes,” Stiles nodded, he was a little breathless. Neither of them had woken up in any type of horny mood, and Peter had seemed more than happy to just be around Stiles all morning, which was a different experience that Stiles did actually enjoy. He liked the fact they were able to just be together and not have to dissolve into sex or awkward small talk. It was refreshing, _more so_ that Stiles didn’t feel the urge to fill the silence between them. _That_ was a rarity that he didn’t find that often. Sure, they had seemed to get along, even going so far as to say Stiles felt comfortable enough to be more himself in Peter’s company, but there had always been _something_ happening. Even if it was Stiles calling Peter ‘daddy’.

“Beautiful,” Peter said, barely audible to Stiles’ ears. It was enough to relight the flame in Stiles’ cheeks once more.

“Let me just get this off you darling. I want to be able to see you,” Peter continued, talking more under his breath but loud enough that Stiles knew he was putting the effort into being heard. As much as Stiles wanted to dissect just what Peter was doing, the warm hands on his sides, running up and slowly lifting his t-shirt was just too distracting.

It wasn’t graceful how Stiles let himself be manipulated out of his top, but Peter was completely transfixed. He watched, noting how Stiles’ pupils were dilated, and how his pale skin was revealed to the light. He made an effort to keep his hands slow as he brushed Stiles’ skin, his sides and up his arms again, managing to get the top off, even as Stiles pouted and tossed his head against the fabric as it moved.

“Do you want to stay standing, or do you want to sit down?” Peter asked, his voice louder than his other comments.

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “Sit?”

“That might be the better plan, my smart boy.”

Stiles preened at the praise, standing taller and smiling to himself.

“I cannot wait to show you off,” Peter chuckled. “Showing everyone _my_ good boy.” He could just see Stiles’ reactions, embarrassed but still eager for that praise Peter would happily shower him in for hours. If Peter had any goal from this, it was to make sure Stiles knew how much he was worth.

“Less talk,” Stiles huffed, his cheeks still pink.

“Now, now, don’t say that, you love what I say,” Peter said, a hint of laughter in his voice. Stiles almost melted, if he wasn’t so focused on what Peter was doing, his knees would have undoubtedly buckled beneath him.

“Not when all it does is make me blush,” Stiles protested.

“That’s a lie darling, remember what happens when you lie to me?” Peter asked. He brought his hands back to Stiles’ waist, just feeling the skin there, brushing his thumbs over the hipbones.

“That wasn’t a lie,” Stiles huffed. “I don’t like blushing; it makes me feel like a child.”

Peter rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss to Stiles’ pouted lips.

“You certainly aren’t a child,” he said seriously, the words soft, dancing over Stiles’ lips. “Although, you would make an adorable one.”  This time, it was Stiles who leant forward to press a kiss to Peter’s lips. Barely lasting longer than a second, but more meaning than any lingering kiss could ever hold.

Peter moved his hands, carefully letting his fingers dig under the fabric of Stiles’ trousers, thankful that they were slightly big. Once again, he settled for slowly running his hands down over Stiles’ skin, moving his hands around to frame Stiles’ ass and giving it a slight squeeze before inching the trousers down onto Stiles’ thighs. Stiles hadn’t bothered to put boxers on, settling for a comfier attire to lounge about Peter’s apartment.

With the trousers staying above Stiles’ knees, Peter shuffled Stiles backwards, they weren’t too far from one of the armchairs. Taking the hint, Stiles sat down, his eyes solely on Peter as the man knelt in front of him. The sight alone was enough to make his cock twitch, much to his embarrassment.

“You are just perfect,” Peter said, giving Stiles an award-winning grin that made him want as much as Peter could give him.

Stiles almost missed Peter pulling his trousers off over his feet. It was only the warm hands against him that brought it to his attention since Peter had seemed to want to touch every possible part of Stiles’ body. It was invigorating to have Peter so readily touching him, without a drop of hesitation.

“Spread them a little,” Peter asked, using his hands to help move Stiles legs further apart for him to settle between them.

Stiles made the mistake of looking at Peter. Once again, just the sight made him twitch. Peter’s attention was focused on Stiles’ bare body, eagerly taking in the view as his hands warmed his thighs. Unable to help it, Stiles looked away, shifting a little uncomfortably where a sat laid back.

“None of that,” Peter tutted.

“I can’t –” _help it,_ Stiles tried to say with a laugh, but his mind blanked with the warm, wet mouth that encased his cock. It had been so sudden, without warning that he had no time to even prepare. He sank back in the chair, hoping for something to ground him, but feeling all the more exposed. Peter didn’t yield to Stiles’ movement, continuing to suck and brush his tongue along the underside of Stiles’ cock. Stiles buried one hand into Peter’s hair, groaning loud as Peter hummed in response.

“Pe – Peter,” Stiles moaned, the words long and breathy. “St – stop. I ca – can’t.” Stiles looked down, meeting Peter’s amused eyes, and knew that the man wouldn’t stop. Stiles was too far gone to be able to control himself and it was only Peter’s hands on his thighs that stopped him thrusting into Peter’s mouth. It seemed to take forever, Peter not moving away from him but still not quite managing to push Stiles over the edge, until it hit. Stiles’ hand tightened in Peter’s hair, his legs shook underneath Peter’s hands and the ever-tightening band in his lower stomach snapped. All at once, Stiles’ body relaxed. He fought to catch his breath, his body trying to relax even though he wasn’t quite there yet.

“I will never tire of that,” Peter said to himself. In response, Stiles let out a slightly heavier breath and a questioning hum. He didn’t think he could manage much more, not after that slow build. “You look and smell so nice,” Peter said, seeming to understand Stiles’ question. “You ok there?” Peter asked after a moment when Stiles made no move to sit up or talk.

Once more, Stiles made a hum before uttering a quiet, ‘ _iss_ ’, which made Peter roll his eyes but comply with Stiles’ request. Shifting up and leaning over Stiles’ mostly reclined body, Peter pressed his lips to the teen’s. It was lazy, mostly on Stiles’ part.

“You sucked all my energy out,” Stiles grumbled when the kiss pulled apart.

“I’m not quite _that_ type of creature,” Peter chuckled. “We should probably get you dressed now, which is a shame. Or we could leave you here for Christopher to find, my nice willing decoration?” he suggested.

Stiles turned pink again, the blush spreading down onto his chest. However, he did finally push himself up. Frowning as Peter looked innocent, he gave him a hard look.

“I’m not being a decoration daddy,” Stiles pouted. It was nice to see how Peter’s mostly calm posture straightened slightly. “Help me?” Stiles tried, attempting to sound young and tired, although the tiredness wasn’t an attempt.

“You don’t need to do that,” Peter said with a smile. He shifted back before standing up. In next to no time, Peter had helped Stiles up, leading him into Peter’s bedroom and picking out a set of clothes. Stiles watched, somewhat amused as one of Peter’s t-shirts found its way onto Stiles’ body. He wouldn’t complain, Peter wore some soft clothes.

Now, he just had to face Chris without dying of embarrassment. _Again_.


	49. Just Relax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I would reply to any comments I hadn't gotten around to at the moment but I really don't feel up to that, so this is just a blanket thank you for the last chapter, you are all so amazing and I appreciate it so much! I wish I had the mental energy for it but right now it just isn't here.

Stiles hated it. As soon as the door had opened, it felt awkward. The whole apartment seemed to only stiffen around him. Perhaps it was just Stiles’ interpretation, but it _was_ awkward. Thankfully, Peter hadn’t disappeared from the room as he had previously. Instead, it was the three of them, sat in a strange silence. Stiles was almost positive that Chris had a gun on him too, which didn’t help him relax. In fact, it only added to the speed at which his mind raced, jumping from each possibility to the other. There was probably some macho standoff taking place that went over Stiles’ head, but the whole atmosphere was _awkward_. He hated it. So much.

“I’m going to get a drink,” he announced, cringing at the sound of his voice and how high and loud it was in the quiet room.

“He seems anxious,” Stiles heard Peter say as he almost ran from the room. The man hadn’t attempted to hide his voice, clearly trying to ease Stiles a little, even though it didn’t work in any way that helped. Stiles just needed to breathe and not be around two _really_ attractive men. It was alright, he could do this, and not die, _ideally_. He knew it was silly, Peter had reiterated how Chris’ presence didn’t mean anything before he had arrived, but it didn’t get rid of that awkward air. How anyone was able to see someone after messing around with them and not give it away was a mystery to him, just being around Chris made Stiles want to equally climb the man and run from sight.

Stiles ran the tap, grabbing a glass and filling it halfway. He shouldn’t feel awkward about it. Chris was a good guy and he hadn’t brought up any of the uncomfortable situations before, so why would he start now? Stiles drank the water, leaving the glass on the side. He could always hide again if he needed it, just for that moment of clear air to stop him hyperventilating. He didn’t _want_ to come across as scared – even though he was. He felt stupid for needing the space to calm himself, he had never had this issue before – but then, he had never been in this situation before. No one had been interested in him like this, it was all new and strange.

“There you are,” Peter smiled as Stiles came back.

Stiles couldn’t resist looking over to Chris, and then being sucked into his eyes. The intensity was enough to fog Stiles’ mind just a fraction. As much as he hated to admit it, he did like being looked at like that. It gave him a mixture of feeling powerful _and_ helpless, something Stiles hadn’t really known was possible.

“You should sit down,” Peter said. Nodding, Stiles agreed. He sat down next to Peter, still unable to look away from Chris.

Coming back to himself, Stiles blushed, ducking his head a little to escape Chris’ eyes. He regretted not getting Diana before Chris arrived, he had protested the suggestion from Peter but right now, Stiles wanted to hide behind her just for a moment. She would have been able to ground him that little bit more.

Startling, Stiles frowned down to his hand, which Peter had just taken hold of.

“Breathe,” Peter reminded him, his voice soft. “Christopher is not going to eat you.”

“Hale is more likely to do that,” Chris added, watching the two of them curiously. He had known how they interacted, he had seen it before as he had been around. However, it was a little surreal to see Peter as he was. It made sense, he was a werewolf, a protector in a long line of protectors. The Hale’s had never been strangers in adopting people into their lives.

“You put…” Stiles mumbled, a smile on his face and a lightness to his voice as he saw the sharks swimming around on the television.

“You seemed to like them last time,” Peter pointed out. “It was Christopher’s idea really.”

“Why?” Stiles asked, turning his attention back onto Chris, but still feeling a little overwhelmed. He didn’t quite catch the hint of surprise that Chris had given to Peter, or how the man’s posture eased when Stiles had finally talked to him, that was a little beyond Stiles’ awareness in that moment.

“Because you are a mess of anxiety and neither of us wanted that,” Peter offered with a drawl. “Just relax a little.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” Stiles grumbled, but he did relax back into the couch a bit, perhaps it was the fact that they had put something on for Stiles, or the fact he was being given time to adjust to the craziness that his life had turned into. Letting his attention shift to the TV. It was easier with something else to focus on. Peter’s hand around his own was grounding as well, a reassuring presence. It was almost like his lifeline, the piece of spring holding him steady, stopping him from floating away into what was sure to be a worrisome evening.

“So what is it about these sharks?” Peter asked, reminding how Stiles had called them his babies.

“What do you mean?”

“They are ugly and surely don’t have any true purpose.”

“You take that back!” Stiles gasped. It was overly dramatic and he knew exactly what Peter was doing. He didn’t mind one bit as he let himself be pulled into the back and forth again. It was _easy_ , and that had been Peter’s aim. Just a simple reminder that it didn’t have to be anything in particular, they could just relax and have fun. “How are they ugly? Sure, they’re different but look at that,” he gestured to the screen. “That is an ingenious design! They have a great range of sight and they look intimidating A.F,” Stiles sounded the letters out, making both men pause for a second before they settled on not asking. There would be a time to learn. Chris had heard it in passing, and Peter knew what Stiles was like, the shortened speech wasn’t the most pressing issue.  

“I’m sure the fish don’t care about intimidation,” Chris pointed out, there was a grin on his face as Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“You both are horrible people,” Stiles grumbled, he settled back against the cushions, unaware when he had leant forward. “They have heads like that to help them see more, they can look up and down at the same time, basically 360 vision. Plus, there is the theory that it gives them a bigger advantage, so they don’t really have to swim as much and they have better flexibility.”

“How many shark programs have you watched?” Chris asked, a little _too_ curious about Stiles’ knowledge. He knew the boy had a hand at research, that much was clear from the folders he had collected and quickly scanned through to see how accurate and in-depth the information was, but sharks had been a strange topic to collect information on, in Chris’ opinion.

“A few,” Stiles mumbled. There was a slight blush on his face.

“How many?” Peter asked, he gave Stiles’ hand a slight squeeze, just to let him know he wanted a more in-depth answer.

“Pretty much all of them,” the teen admitted, his blush deepening just a fraction. “They are always on though, so it’s not exactly _difficult_ to watch them,” he said, trying to defend himself.

“ _I_ haven’t seen them,” Peter pointed out.

“Yeah, well you missed quite a bit of time,” Stiles grumbled without thinking. There was a second before Stiles realised what he said, and he felt hot with shame. “I’m sorry I didn’t –”

“It’s ok darling,” Peter said, giving Stiles’ hand another slight squeeze. “Now, let’s watch these hideous creatures swim more.”

“Is it just hammerheads? Or do you like other sharks as well?” Chris asked, not wanting them to fall back into silence so soon after settling Stiles.

“I like them all,” Stiles grinned, it was easy to fall into talking about things he liked, especially when people asked him questions. It was easier than just talking, there was less of the feeling of bothering people with his rambling. Neither Chris or Peter had roll their eyes, or huffed, or even grumbled under their breath. It was like they _wanted_ Stiles to talk, which is why it felt effortless. “I’m just more vocal about hammerheads because they get so little love. They’re unconventional looking, and people like to think sharks are bad. It isn’t fair on them; they can’t change that. It’s not their fault that human’s look like turtles on some surfboards. Sharks don’t go out of their way to attack humans, not normally anyway. It’s not their fault that _sometimes_ they take a bite out of an intruder. We would freak out so much if a shark just appeared in our house.”

Peter didn’t say anything, nor did Chris. Both taking a second for similar reasons. For Chris, the way Stiles spoke with such passion about showing an animal so much admiration and respect was a little inspiring. For some reason it made his chest hurt, not that Chris would announce that to anyone in the room. Peter, however, reconsidered the words with what he knew about Stiles. His chest hurt as well, but he knew exactly why. Stiles was uneasy in his skin, that much was clear, it wasn’t too severe, but enough that it was noticeable. Plus, after everything, Stiles was _still_ treated like a bad person, even if it was just the potential of him going _dark_ , so to speak, again. Stiles related to these creatures, probably more than Peter could understand. How long? How long had Stiles been watching these creatures and talking positively about them? How long had he, even unknowingly, related? Or was Peter just reaching for a connection?

“Look at that baby,” Stiles cooed, unaware of the two men. They were still silent, but slowly coming back out of their shell’s as the program continued on and Stiles talking over and to the narration of the show, even going as far to correct some of the narration, much to the amusement of both men.

“Thank you,” Stiles grinned. They had watched two programs after the first had finished, an easy atmosphere surrounding the three of them.

Strangely enough, or at least in Stiles’ mind, he went home that night alone. Chris had gone back to his apartment, and Peter had stayed at his own one and Stiles was left trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. Neither man had said anything, or even made a move to touch Stiles on anywhere but socially acceptable areas. Chris had patted his shoulder and given him a wide smile that almost melted Stiles’ insides before he had left, and Peter and pulled Stiles into a hug, holding him close before telling him to drive safely. It was strange but nice. It left Stiles feeling warm and liked.


End file.
